RECIPES, TALES, AND WORLD-ALTERING
MEDITATIONS IN A GLASS
Randy Mosher
Brewers Publications
Division of the Brewers Association
PO Box 1679, Boulder, CO 80306-1679
(303) 447-0816; Fax (303) 447-2825
©2004 by Randy Mosher
All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, no portion of this book may be reproduced in any form
without written permission of the publisher. Neither the author, editors, nor the publisher assumes any
responsibility for the use or misuse of the information in this book.
ISBN: 978-0-937381-83-0 (print)
ISBN: 978-0-9840756-2-1 (eBook)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data for the Print Edition
Mosher, Randy.
Radical brewing : recipes, tales, and world-altering meditations in a glass / by Randy Mosher.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
1. Brewing--Amateurs’ manuals. I. Title.
TP570.M65 2004
641.8’73--dc22
2004003466
Technical Editor: Gordon Strong
Book Project Editor: Ray Daniels
Copy Editor: Jill Redding
Cover and Interior Designer: Randy Mosher/Randy Mosher Design
Production: Julie Korowotny
Direct all inquiries or orders to the above address.
To all the brewers,
past and present,
who have pushed
the boundaries in
search of something
great to drink.
T
ABLE OF
C
ONTENTS
Foreword by Michael Jackson
Introduction: Changing the World One Glass at a Time
Chapter 1: An Embellished History of Beer
Chapter 2: What is This Thing Called Beer?
What Makes a Beer?
Body and Texture
Units of Measurement
Beer Flavor
Elements of Aroma
The Fine Art of Drinking Beer
Chapter 3: An Overview of Brewing
Why Homebrew?
The Brewing Process in a Nutshell
Stuff
Get on With It: Your First Radical Brew
How Not to Screw It Up
Extract + Mini Mash Brewing
Mashing Made Easy
Basic Infusion Mashing
Mashing Made Difficult
Chapter 4: Basic Ingredients
Malt, Glorious Malt
Malt Types Chart
More Hops!
Hop Variety Chart
Is It or Is It Not the Water?
Godisgood: The Mystery of Yeast
Chapter 5: How to Build a Beer
It’s Art, I Tell You: Putting a Recipe Together
Cypherin’: Calculating in the Brewery
On To a Recipe
It’s All About Process
Fermenting and Conditioning
About the Recipes in This Book
Recipe Worksheet
Chapter 6: Is It Any Good?
The Basics of Critical Tasting
Your Strange Brain
A Dirty Dozen of Off-Flavors
Chapter 7: Basic Drinkers
Extraordinary Ordinaries: British Bitter
(Not So Dumb) Blondes
A Flash of Brilliance: British Summer Ale
A Sparkle in Your Ale
Kick-Ass IPAs
Brown is Beautiful
Intire Butt: Porter
Twelve Ways to Improve a Stout
Chapter 8: Lager On!
A Perfect Pilsener
Decoctions: Are They Worth the Bother?
Munich Dunkel
Almost Porter: German Schwarzbier
Alternate Bocks
Chapter 9: Belgians are Easy
Belgian Pale Ales
Brews of Beelzebub: Strong Pale Ales
Saison: Beer of Heavenly Balance
Three Times the Fun—Abbey Beers
Chapter 10: Big Honkin’ Brews
Big Things: The Demands of Big Beer
Dragon’s Milk: English October Beer
Imperial Pale Ale
English Doble-Doble
Toward a Portlike Beer
Chapter 11: Beyond Barley
Wheat and Weizen
Adjunct Grain Chart
GoseBier of Jena
A Smattering of Adjunct Recipes
Chapter 12: Hops Are Just Another Herb, Mon
Using Herbs and Spices
Herb and Spice Chart
Wassail: Twelve Beers of Christmas
And More...
Chapter 13: Tooting your Fruit
Fruits for Brewing Chart
Techniques for Brewing With Fruit
Oranges and Other Citrus
Drink Your Vegetables
Holy Chihuahua, It’s Chile Beer!
Shrooms, Man!
Chapter 14: Bent Beers
Taking Liberties with Styles
Smokin: Beers, That Is
Historic Smoked Beer Styles
Sugar, Sugar
Radical Techniques
Just Plain Crazy
Chapter 15: The Mysteries of Belgium
A Perfectly White Beer
Off-White
Oud Bruin: Flanders Sour Brown
Lambic
Chapter 16: Rolling Your Own
Going Organic
Malting Your Own Barley
Roasting Your Own
Growing Hops
Chapter 17: Forward into the Past
Historical Weights and Measures
Very Ancient Beers
The Age of Gruit
Heather Ale of Scotland
Old Ingredients and Quantities
Finnish Sahti
Devon White Ale
Kvass and Other Russian Beers
Ales & Beers of Jolly Old England
Thick Gooey Beers
Outlaw Ales of Northern Germany
The Horrors of Colonial Ales
Chapter 18: Save the Bees!
A Bit About Honey
Mead, Glorious Mead
Braggot and Beyond
Chapter 19: Don’t Try This Alone
The Glory of Brew Clubs
Big Barrels O’ Beer
Stone Beer
Get-Togethers and Beer Tastings
You Can Take it With You
Chapter 20: The Buckapound Brewery
Some Generalities
Raw Materials and How to Work Them
Automation
The Buckapound Brewery
Chapter 21: A Few Words on Beer & Food
What Goes With That?
Cooking With Beer
Cooking With Beer Ingredients
Chapter 22: What’s Next?
So Much to Do
Going Pro
Appendix
Web Link
Brewing Organizations
List of Recipes
Bibliography
Index
A
CKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A work like this cannot exist in a vacuum. Radical Brewing draws inspiration both
from the past and from the happy vitality of the American homebrewing movement, a
unique and wonderful chapter in the long history of beer. Hopefully this work offers
an accurate glimpse of this energetic movement.
My sincere thanks to the technical editor on this project, Gordon Strong. His diligent
scrutiny saved me from more than one embarrassing misstep. A big thanks also goes
to Ray Daniels for believing in and supporting this project—and for everything else
over the years.
Thanks to Bat Bateman, Chuck Boyce, Ray Spangler, Tim Steininger, Gordon Strong,
Thomas Vista and Paul Williams for some very outrageous recipes. And to Ed
Bronson and Ray Daniels for the loan of some rare old brewing books. A special debt
is owed to the late Bill Friday, the devoted and generous beer-bibliophile, who
awakened some very old texts from their microfilm slumber and brought them back to
life by allowing myself and others access to their fascinating contents.
Thanks also to Pete Crowley, Fred Eckhardt, Michael Jackson, Lyn Kruger, Bill
Pengelly, Fred Scheer and Chuck Skypeck for assistance or inspiration of one kind or
another.
And finally, thanks to the homebrewing members of the Chicago Beer Society and the
brewers from the many other clubs across the country with whom I have had the good
fortune to have shared many beers and illuminating discussions over the years.
FOREWORD
The Marvel of Mosher
By Michael Jackson
T
he world desperately needs more Moshers. If only we had more Moshers, the
Tasmanian tiger might return from extinction. Mike Tyson at his peak would be able
to step into the ring with Muhammad Ali. We would be able to see and hear the great
performers who pre-dated the recording of sound. I might even now be sipping a
preProhibition beer and checking whether Buddy Bolden could be heard across Lake
Ponchartrain. Or I might be sampling Harwood’s Porter in a London pub, or an India
Pale Ale aboard a clipper heading for Calcutta.
To be truthful, I know only one Mosher. He is Randy, which in the United
Kingdom, where I live, means feeling sexy. I know nothing of his private life, but
there is passion in the heart of this seemingly quiet, kindly man. His activities are
probably a threat to our morals. Passion, imagination, and tenacity are a challenge to
the established order. So are people whose definition of progress is not acquiescence.
As a teenager, I learned this when I saw an item on television about a London pub
in which the walls were lined with friezes showing merry monks. The pub was
scheduled to be demolished to make way for road widening. In the TV programme, a
slightly crazy-looking English poet was arguing that the pub was a temple to the
pleasures of drinking and should be saved. It was. The poet’s name was Betjeman. I
thought at the time that we needed more Betjemen.
We don’t call them that; we know them as conservationists. A pity. I prefer
Betjemen. Until now, there has been no name for people who go a stage beyond
conservation, and somehow bring back pleasures that have been lost.
A revivalist? Randy does more than that. He and I once presented a tasting of rare
Northern European beer styles, using examples that he had brewed. One of the styles
was Grodzisk, from Poland. I had tasted the last commercially-brewed Grodzisk;
Randy had only read about the style. Despite this, he made a beer that tasted like the
Grodzisk I had enjoyed.
A beer archaeologist? People like Randy can find old “recipes” for some of the
beers that have been lost, but they are very hard to interpret. The brewer of a century
ago knew what “Mr. Smith’s malt” tasted like, but we do not. Nor do we know that
characteristics of hops that long preceded today’s varieties.
A scholar? Randy’s researches represent diligent scholarship, and make possible
a Jurassic Park of beer styles.
So what is he? He is a Mosher.
I
NTRODUCTION
W
e’re taught from childhood
that what is good can’t be fun. It’s a
lie. Homebrewing combines good and fun into one sparkling amber liquid. We can all
drink to that.
“Culture is more subversive than politics.”
— Vivienne Westwood, punk fashion designer
Okay, so it isn’t saving-babies-in-Africa good, but American homebrewers have
profoundly changed the beer scene for the better. What we’ve accomplished, along
with making it pretty easy to get a palatable beer just about anywhere in this country,
is nothing less than keeping beer, a twelve thousand year-old cultural treasure of
humanity, from slipping into a coma of mechanized industrial anonymity.
Beer is a deep, wide river that flows through human culture. It appears along with
the earliest signs of civilization, and is enjoyed and venerated in nearly every society
with access to its makings. To think that might have been subsumed into the drab one-
size-fits-all world of modern commerce is an outrage, but we came very close.
Fortunately, things are on a happier track now.
If you’re a homebrewer, give yourself a hearty whack on the back. You’ve earned
it. You have experimented, evangelized, and prophesied. Some of you have even
given up jobs your moms were perfectly proud of to put on the big rubber boots and
brew beer in tiny breweries, a truly generous act. You’ve celebrated the joy of great
beer, paid your hard earned cash for it when you needed to, and demanded it from the
places you frequent. Craft beer could never have happened without you.
It is a huge accomplishment to have prodded some of the most massive
corporations on earth—the industrial brewers—into doing things they’d really rather
not have done. For a hundred years, Big Beer set the direction—paler, lighter, less
bitter— with the swagger of inevitability. And then, horrors! Geeks in their basements
were suddenly in charge. At the first frenzied peak of craft brewing, all the big guys
wigged out and made stouts, bought micros, and generally acted as if the world was
coming to an end.
It is probably for the best that the 45 percent annual growth of craft beer didn’t
continue, as craft brewing might have gotten big enough to make it worth crushing,
but (whew!) the pressure’s off and now the big brewers’ marketing geniuses can get
back to cannibalizing their core brands with the latest licensed alcopop fad of the day
and doing business in the safe confines of their cubicles. Dangers remain, but we have
carved out a niche for craft beer with some staying power. In Europe, as hallowed
styles fade away, American craft brewing is serving as an inspiration and a model for
the future of specialty beer over there as well.
And behind it all are homebrewers, with restless curiosity and infectious
enthusiasm. We are determined to make something meaningful, something real. And
we’re doing it pretty well.
My Definition of Craft Beer in America
If a homebrewer (current or former) gets to decide what the beer tastes like, it’s craft
beer.
But make no mistake, corporate blandness is on the march. If left unanswered, it
will wrap its cubicle walls around real culture and squeeze the life completely out of
it. This is not speculation; it’s a business plan. People who are aware are fighting
back. For boring beer, radical brewing is the necessary antidote.
Once you turn your hand to it, you can expect great things. The exact same
ingredients and techniques available to commercial brewers are available to amateur
brewers as well, and this, combined with knowledge and enthusiasm, is the reason
good homebrew is the rival of any commercial beer on the planet. American
homebrewers have been relentless in their pursuit of quality beers, both iconic and
iconoclastic, resulting in a subculture just exploding with enthusiasm and creativity.
So what does it mean to be a radical brewer? Well, I can tell you stories of people
who have custom built “garages” suited only for brewing, of a brewer who makes
sublime beers from nothing more than seeds and organic fertilizer, of a half-million
BTU burners, and of 1,500 homebrewers celebrating their favorite drink in the
Southern California scrubland, But to me, the only requirement for being a radical
brewer is to pursue the art with passion. The great joy of it is discovering what your
own unique path will be.
Brew Big, Buy Small: Support Your Local Micro
Throwing a brick through the window of a Starbucks may be satisfying for a few
mindless sociopaths, but it won’t accomplish diddly-squat. Why? Because it’s not
action; it’s just reaction.
You still have to buy beer sometimes; so as a customer you need to make your choices
carefully. You can surrender your dough to some vast industrial conglomerate that
owns who-knows-what-else, or you can help support a dedicated entrepreneur who’s a
part of your community, who is crazy for the good stuff (just like you), and who isn’t
trying to water it down to utter blandness. Buying genuine microbrew is not just a
matter of being nice—it’s self interest. If you don’t support them, they’ll be gone, and
then what will your choices be like?
Be cantankerous. Demand craft beer wherever you go, and don’t be afraid to be a pest
about it. Learn where good beer comes from. Consider who you’re giving your money
to. Turn your friends on to the pleasures of craft beer. It matters.
A PROMISE
This book has two goals. The first is to help you brew great beer. Wacked-out,
elegant, seductive, mind-blowingly delicious beer. The second is to help you
understand that beer is an art form, a gastronomic treasure, a political act, a mystical
ritual, a food, and a fundamental human craft. This, in turn, will help you brew even
better beer.
If you’re just beginning your brewing journey, this book will take you through the
steps needed to get comfortable making beer. For those of you who have been
brewing for a while, this book should be a treasure trove of ideas, techniques, and
recipes, both historically-based and pure American homebrew anarchy. For those
interested, there should be plenty of tools here to develop your own voice as a brewer.
As an artist in beer.
This is not a book for drooling imbeciles. I promise not to oversimplify things or
gloss over the thorny bits so you can feel superior. Making beer is about doing things
for yourself. As my welding teacher says, “They just want you to sit on your ass and
watch TV and buy their stuff. If you can work with your hands, you can control your
own life.” So you are going to have to learn to work out a recipe. Get yourself a point
of view. Become your own brewmaster. I’m not going to spoon feed everything to
you. This is art. It’s not paint-by-numbers!
On the other hand, do not expect this book to exhaustively cover every style; that
has been done very well elsewhere. I’ve included styles that are either object lessons,
technical showcases, new to the homebrewing community, or just essential beers
every brewer should know how to make.
I have omitted a fair amount of detail on technical matters, opting to include only
what I have found essential to brewing good beer in a homebrew setting. As with
styles, the technical side of brewing has been covered many times, far better than I
ever could. Frankly, I have seen some homebrewers get obsessed with rather minor
process issues and kind of miss some of the more important questions, like what to
brew.
So get your kettle shined up and prepare to dive into the world of beer. Ready
yourself for the delightful act of discovery that is Radical Brewing.
HOW TO BREW
Brew as if beer is a gift from a benevolent universe. Because it is.
Brew as if it’s a magic spell. Incant the names: barley, hops, water, yeast, fire.
These primal elements converge in a miraculous way to create beer. Just
because you understand how enzyme molecules catalyze complex chains of
reactions in every stage of the brew, it doesn’t make their million-to-one
reaction energy lowering ability any less astounding. Every time you brew,
you invoke an uncountable number of miracles.
Brew like a good shepherd, with billions of tiny creatures at your mercy. The
yeast you sprinkle on your brew is not inert muddy goo. It’s alive, and each
cell claims a proud royal lineage, nurtured for millennia by our brewing
forebears. Give it a comfortable home, with plenty to eat, and it will do its part
without hesitation.
Brew as an act of benevolence. For all of recorded history, beer has had the
power to soothe, to please, to bring people together. It was, and remains, a
nurturing staple crafted by brewers of faith, the cloistered few whose calling it
was to contemplate the universe. Over the ages, beer has brought civilization to
nomads, succor to travelers, and a revolution to our own young country, with
dark plans and brilliant declarations hatched in public houses, then sealed with
a pint. Or two.
Brew like an artist, with your senses and your whims. Brewing is not
engineering; there are no equations for flavor. You have to grope your way
through every new brew with an intuitive sense of what’s good, with rhythm,
harmony, and contrast, and then get the parts to transcend their individuality
and add up to something sublime.
Brew with balance. Play the sweet malt against the bitter hop, but also
consider the rough bitterness of roasted malt, the spiciness of ale fermentation,
the fatness of well-lagered Munich malt. As the universe is balanced, so should
be your beer.
Brew with simplicity. Those four Reinheitsgebot substances: malt, water, hops,
and yeast, have the power to create a spectacular range of flavors, textures, and
sensations. Paring it down to the minimum needed to achieve a great result is
the sign of a true master. Even with these limited ingredients the brewing
toolkit is huge; malting, kilning, mashing, boiling, and fermentation give you
unlimited options for shaping your brews.
Brew with reckless abandon. Over the millennia, nearly every foodstuff and
herbal substance known has been put into beer. Magic beers with mystical—
and often psychoactive— ingredients were part of the ancient classical
mysteries. Beer has a central role in ceremonial occasions around the world.
Berries, roots, bark, seeds, mushrooms, even chickens, eggs, and oysters have
all been thrown into the brewpot in the quest for some unusual taste, sensation,
cure, tonic, or magical effect. And while our need to chemically connect with
the spiritual dimension has diminished in our modern society, there remains
much to explore for the sake of flavor.
Brew with meaning. Beer is deeply intertwined with our humanity across the
globe. Yes, brewing can be a job or a hobby, but it is also an act certifying
your participation in the family of mankind. Beer brings people together, as
you will find once you have a steady supply of homebrew at hand.
Brew beer with all of this in mind, and the world will remain an amazing
place.
Ceremonial Kettle
Made by the author for the secret brewing rituals of the Bloatarian Brewing League.
Chapter 1
A
N
E
MBELLISHED
H
ISTORY OF
B
EER
H
omebrewing dates back as far
as beer itself, probably about
twelve thousand years ago.
Some academics suggest it was the ingestion of mind-altering substances that led
to the creation of the human consciousness. Their view may be on the fringe, but
psychoactive chemicals played prominent roles in many early religions. In
Christianity, the central ritual of communion revolves around the ingestion of two
transformative materials, one of them—wine—with proven psychoactive properties.
My own crackpot view on the birth of civilization is supported by some actual
academics. I imagine the nomadic tribesmen as fiercely freedom-loving, with the
wind-in-the-hair lifestyle of modern day bikers, tough enough to deal with the brutal
realities of nature. Is freshly baked bread, nice as that is, enough enticement to trade
Harley for hoe and join the backbreaking ranks of the farmer? In my view it is not.
Toss in a refreshing and relaxing beer to ease your troubles and woes and, well, that’s
a proposition worth talking about.
I further contend that the lubricating nature of alcohol allows people to coexist in
the otherwise crushing density of cities. This is as true now as it was in Ur of the
Chaldees.
Beer has always been shaped by geography and climate. Each species of grain is
adapted to a particular climatic zone, with wheat favoring milder climes while oats
and rye thrive in harsh Northern regions. Barley is pretty hardy, but does need a richer
soil than rye or oats. Hops, too, are sensitive to latitude, as they require a particular
summer day-length to trigger cone production. Each herb, fruit, and other ingredient
has a preferred habitat, and in the days before the easy transport of commodities,
every drink tasted of its own unique flora.
Despite this, much of the pattern of beer’s popularity defies explanation. Why
was Egypt and so much of the rest of the early Middle East so crazy for beer, while
the Greeks and Romans started early with wine and have pretty much stood by it for
the last three thousand years? Was it a technological improvement that originally
allowed them to store and enjoy the wine throughout the year? Was it just the masses
mimicking the luxurious drinking practices of the elite, and later the desire to cling to
the culture of the faded empire long past its glory? Or was it just the fact that once you
get the grapes, wine is about the easiest thing there is to make?
And what of the Barbarian nations? The French have always found plenty of uses
for beer, if not respect. Even today, France supplies much of the barley used to turn
out the radiantly artistic beers of Belgium. So why no beer culture in Gaul?
The Germans can make a pretty good cask of wine. Was their headlong lust for
beer a means of spurning the decadent ways of the South, reminding themselves of
their raggedy triumph over the largest empire the world had ever known? Could this
have happened without a real national identity until the late Middle Ages? And could
there be a shred of resonance in this idea today, or is the beer tradition running on the
fumes of sheer dogged traditionalism?
A couple hundred years ago, the differences were chalked up to the
fundamentally diverse constitutions of the various “races”: beer being suited to the
Dutch, while unhopped ale was the healthier drink for the Englishman, blah, blah,
blah. This is hogwash, of course, but beer functioned as liquid bread, an important
part of a whole nutritional system consisting of many interdependent parts, and any
kind of change would tend to upset a carefully balanced equilibrium. Plus, people tend
to be rather set in their ways, as well as contemptuous of foreigners. As an example, it
took about a hundred years for hops to become accepted in England.
The Birth of Beer: Location: a really fertile part of the Fertile Crescent, 10,000
B.C.E.. It must have gone something like this:
“Senacherib, you lazy son of a scarab!
“I’ve had it up to my shooskas with this lousy nomadic life. We never have anything
nice. No coffee table, no comfy chair, not even a teevee! Camel hair tents, camel hair
rugs, camel hair shorts! My life is an itchy hell, husband of mine, and you’re to blame.
Can’t we just settle down, maybe quit the Ur’s Angels, get one of those new mud
brick split levels, like the Joh’Nzanh’s?”
“Awwww, Angie, you know I just got new chrome mud flaps for Harl’eh and Dav’d-
Zon. Look how shiny! This desert dude was born to ride!”
“Come, sit, eat. I got some of that new barley grain down at Honest Ur’s Bargain Hut.
Very trendy. A deal, too. I think it got wet in last year’s rainstorm. Looks like it
sprouted. Made you some nice gruel from a recipe in Good Tentkeeping. Mmmm,
steaming hot.”
“Splakh! I hate nouvelle cuisine. You know I’m a lamb and lentils man. I’m outta
here! Hey guys, c‘mon, let’s ride out to the oasis. I think they’re grillin’ goatburgers
tonight.”
RRRRRRvvvvrrrrmmmm! (To be perfectly accurate, camels peeling out sound more
like flup, flup, flup.)
As Senacherib and the rest of the gang flups off into the desert, Angie, frustrated by
another failed effort to tame her free-spirit husband, dumps the remaining barley into
his uneaten bowl of gruel and sets it outside the tent. She cries herself to an itchy sleep
under the cool desert moon.
The next day the goop has taken on a life of its own, sputtering and throbbing under
the hot Mesopotamian sun. “Interesting,” she thinks. “But this needs more work.” She
takes the pulsating mash and filters it into a clay jug through her camel-hair headcloth,
then digs the pointy end of the jug into the cool sand. As a final attempt to save the
situation, she tosses in some chopped dates, coriander seeds, and the bitter herb rue
into the mix.
A couple of days pass before Senacherib and the rest of his rowdy pals trundle back to
the encampment, a bloated gazelle strapped across the back of one of the camels
(actually she smelled them before she heard them).
“Heyyy Angie! Yo, I’m home! What is there to drink around here?”
“Just a little something I brewed up. Here.” He takes the jug and after a cautious sniff
takes a long, cooling draught of the tangy, tickling beverage. She has a twang of
conscience, thinking maybe she didn’t really want to poison him completely to death.
“Uargh, not bad. Kinda fizzy. Whoa, I gotta sit down. Hey, guys, try this...”
You know the rest of the story. Senacherib gets a little sick, but in a good way. He and
Angie settle down into their mud-brick double-wide next to a very large pile of barley
and the rest of the Ur’s Angels, forming a happy little village of bubbling barley-juice
drinkers. They go on to invent the wheel, civilization, and after a very long hot spell,
the fridge.
A MOSTLY TRUE BEER HISTORY TIMELINE
c. 10,000 Glaciers melt, barley pops up everywhere. Neolithic people take flat rocks and pound
B.C.E. it into hearty nourishing gruel.
9999 Neolithic people sick of gruel. Wonder what else they can do with barley.
B.C.E.
9998- Tried everything: gruel loaf, gruel au jus, gruel fritters, gruel pâté, gruel in aspic.
9000 Charred meat is still by far the most popular food.
B.C.E.
8999 Final contestant in barley cook-off comes up with a winner: crock-aged festering
B.C.E. sprouted barley-cake bisque with bitter herbs, actually much more enjoyable than it
sounds. Dubbed beer, it’s much better than gruel. The formerly neglected Goddess of
Gruel becomes fashionable new Goddess of Beer, now in big demand at parties
everywhere across Fertile Crescent.
5000 Formerly nomadic people of ancient Middle East settle down to avoid having to lug
B.C.E. around heavy jugs of beer. Civilization officially begins.
3000 Egyptians start to build mighty civilization based on the motivating power of beer.
B.C.E. The whole place gets drunk and stacks rocks into giant pointy pyramid things,
frightening desert nomads. As a joke, they appoint a hippopotamus named Seth as the
god of beer. Nation wakes up a thousand years later with a helluva hangover.
1740 Sneaky Babylonian brewery accountants encourage use of straw and papyrus chaff as
B.C.E. cost-saving measure in breweries. Hammurabi gets mad and writes code of laws
describing which body parts to chop off as punishment for such infractions.
45 Degenerate Egyptian ruler-god mistakenly trades Queen Cleopatra to Roman wine-
B.C.E. drinking weasel for a six-pack of something “much better than beer.”
50 C.E.
Roman Emperor Julian says beer “smells of goat,” starting long tradition of effete
wine snobs bad-mouthing beer. Rome becomes filthy with wealthy, effete wine snobs,
and begins its long and inevitable decline.
410-455
Beer drinkers from the barbaric North ride their Harleys into Rome and smash up the
place but good.
700-900
Vikings learn to make beer from grains and tree parts. Heaven envisioned as giant
beer joint, with glorious death in battle as the cover charge. Thousands rush to join the
army.
600-1400 Dark Beer Ages. Monks support religion by brewing beer using creepy-sounding
medieval ingredients like Bog Myrtle. Strong beers reserved for Abbots and other
bigshots.
Monastic brewery accountants come up with the idea of “small beer” to give out to
penitents as a cheaper substitute for expensive hair shirts.
Monopoly maintained on the sale of high-priced beer “gruit” herbs, guaranteeing the
church a piece of the action on every beer sold in whole Dark Ages area.
1350- Hops replace other herbs, weakening the church’s grip on beer revenue, eventually
1450 allowing free-willed scalawags like Martin Luther to vandalize church doors,
inexplicably opening the floodgates of the Renaissance.
1500 Lager beer emerges from damp and chilly caves in Germany. Soccer not yet the
national sport, so England fails to see the point. A little later, Scotland—way into
damp and chilly—takes it up enthusiastically.
1516 Bavarians enact the fabled Reinheitsgebot beer purity act, creating the foundation for
serious-sounding advertising puffery 475 years in the future.
1524 Flemish immigrants bring hopped beer to England. Ale lovers in Britannia show their
appreciation by making up derisive ditties and rioting.
1587 New World Indians show Walter Raleigh how to make cheap watery beer from maize,
and American beer is born. Raleigh later beheaded, but the warning was ignored by
later brewers.
1620 Pilgrims stuck on small, stinky ship bobbing slowly across the Atlantic, sort of lost
and really, really thirsty. They look for landmark, but can only find small ugly rock
and decide to land anyway. They show their devotion to their religious principles by
postponing church-building in order to make the brewery their first permanent
structure.
1722 In London, the story of Ralph Harwood inventing porter is invented. Due to poisonous
additives in beer, people start hallucinating, and worse. Consumers rail against the use
of such adulterants in beer, which are eventually outlawed.
1773 American colonists pretty sick of stale, highly taxed English beer. They hold a
meeting in the local tavern and plot to dump all the ale in the harbor as a protest. After
a few more rounds, someone comes up with the much better idea of dumping tea into
the harbor, and history is made.
1750- The thermometer, hydrometer, and steam power all come to English porter breweries
1800 as the industrial revolution takes hold. Brewery accountants get nice corner offices.
German brewers come and take notes. Belgium yawns, decides not to clean the
spiderwebs off their fermenters.
1814 Giant beer vat collapses in London. Dozens drown, but in a pretty cool way.
Impoverished hordes signal their approval by violently struggling for gutter space to
drink the spilled beer.
1847 England’s Glass Tax is repealed, encouraging bottled beer and starting a trend toward
paler, clearer beers (which reached its zenith with Miller’s 1994 introduction—and
withdrawal—of Clear Beer.)
1840- Germans immigrate to America, and lagers displace English-style ales. English finally
1860 start to feel better about losing Revolutionary War.
1873 “Golden Era of American brewing” peaks with 4,131 breweries.
1890s Refrigerated railcars and national marketing signal the beginning of national
breweries. Local breweries send out press releases stating they will survive thanks to
“the undying loyalty of their local customers.”
1915- World War I rationing cuts strength of beer, and brewers rush to convince us we like
1917 it this way. Local brewers start to report some of their local customers are dying off.
“Golden era of American brewery accountants” begins.
1919- Prohibition ushers in era of gangsters, speakeasies, and homebrewing. The cocktail
1933 flourishes as the only way to hide the strong, bathtubby taste of bathtub gin.
1934 Beer can invented. Joe Six-Pack born in Steubenville, Ohio.
1976 American bicentennial year is low ebb of beer quality and diversity, as 90 percent of
the beer brewed in the United States comes from just five companies.
1976 First American microbrewery opens, then soon closes. Lured by the sweet, malty
smell of success, many others are inspired to open their own breweries.
1995 Industrial breweries jump on increased consumer demand for quality beer by
redoubling efforts to find clever animal mascots for their red beers.
There is a certain churning fashionability affecting beer styles in
most places, and this also has a generational component to it. Of course
we don’t have any detail when we look at truly ancient tastes, but when
we get to about five hundred years ago, we see beer fashions changing
two or three times a century. There’s always an old-fashioned beer,
staunchly defended by the old guys, who take the style with them when
they pass from history. Unless, as often happens, the once-senescent
beer is recast by an enthusiastic new generation eager to reconnect with
their past, or who just crave what they believe to be a new sensation,
which is a perfect picture of our present situation.
Gender and beer is another
interesting area of study. There were
beer deities of both sexes in the ancient Middle East:
Sumerian Ninkasi was female, as were the brewers and
alehouse proprietors; the Egyptian beer hippo-god Seth
was male. The gender of the brewer seems to have
depended on the scale and degree of commercial
activity. When brewing was a household chore, it was
invariably a female responsibility. On a larger scale,
especially after industrialization, it became exclusively
male. In between was a kind of fuzzy area where gender roles could go either way,
depending on the society. In the Middle Ages, small-scale commercial brewing was
practiced by women, and it seems to have been a real lifeline for widows and other
unattached—and financially marginal—women. At the same time, larger breweries
flourished in monasteries, always the domain of men. Today’s homebrewers tend to
be men, mainly, I believe, because hobbies of all kinds seem to be more captivating
for men. Honestly, I wish the situation were different; most of the women I know who
brew are really good at it. One of them uses “Beer Diva” as an e-mail address, and I
have to say this is not an idle boast.
So beer’s relationship to society poses the kind of questions that give
anthropologists, sociologists, and historians purpose—and that also drive them crazy.
The history of beer’s role in society is a difficult pursuit. Once you start looking into
history, you realize how much is gone forever, and how much effort it takes to
connect the well-separated dots of the past.
Some of the oldest laws of any kind pertain to brewing and serving beer. The
famous Code of Hammurabi contains prohibitions against overcharging in alehouses.
Poor quality beers—especially those watered down or adulterated—seem to have been
major problems throughout history. Nowadays, watered beer is a point of pride with
some people; it commands more than 40 percent of the American beer market.
Beer has always been a free-flowing gusher of government funding; at this
writing there are proposals in many legislatures to raise the taxes on beer once again.
People’s desire for beer and other alcohol is so strong that they will willingly shoulder
a huge burden of taxation. This started early. By the early Middle Ages, governmental
or religious monopolies were established for the production and sale of gruit, the spice
mixture used to flavor ale. It was a mandatory ingredient, and the high prices charged
by the gruit monopoly constituted a tax of sorts. These monopolies were later
extended to hops in many places.
A multitude of different schemes for extracting money from brewers and their
customers have been used over the years, and these usually had an impact on the
strength and character of the beers. Taxes on malt, wort gravity, hops, glassware,
alcohol content, and even on the volume of the mash tun have all played a role in the
development of present day beer styles.
Bronze Age Beakers and Jugs
Ritual vessels for beverages suggest a liquid of great importance. Recent evidence from
Neolithic ceremonial vessels has revealed traces of meadowsweet, an herb known to
have been used in mead and beer.
In the Dark Ages, we discover a huge range of beers seasoned with plants other
than today’s ubiquitous hop. Exotic seasonings like meadowsweet, bog myrtle, and
wild rosemary complemented the more familiar ginger, nutmeg, and clove in these
medieval brews. Beers were thought of as much more than simple drink. Indeed,
every culinary, medicinal, or magical herb has at one time or another found its way
into a beer of some sort. The legendary fearlessness of Northern beer-drinking tribes
like the Picts and Vikings were often ascribed to the strength of their ale and mead,
frequently bolstered by psychoactive plant substances. It is believed that the legendary
Viking warriors, the Berserkers, were hopped up on ale laced with Ledum palustre, or
wild rosemary.
It’s impossible to say exactly how these medieval beers would have tasted,
although there are plenty of dogged recreationists out there brewing old recipes as
well as they can decipher them. I ascribe to the view that people liked a good beer
back then as much as they do now, and despite severe limitations in raw materials and
technology, clever and dedicated individuals were able to turn out beers worthy of
poetry. Documents from the past reveal that governments had a keen interest
promoting quality products, as the town’s reputation was on the line.
Guilds were entrenched by the start of the fourteenth century; on the Continent,
these guilds—and sometimes whole towns—specialized in either red (barley) or white
(usually wheat) beers. Although there were many exceptions, white beers tended to be
more of a northern product than a southern one.
Medieval Ale Glasses
An elegant glass has always made the beer taste better!
All across the North Sea coast, cities banded together to form a trading
organization called the Hansa (or Hanseatic League), whose focus was trading by
ship. Many of the towns—Hamburg, Bremen, Rostock, Lübeck, and others—were
known as brewing centers, and this trade spread Germanic brewing traditions far
afield, especially to the north and east. Beer was also exported to England. Many of
the Hansa towns—especially the ones like Hamburg, which were early hop trading
centers as well—helped spread the gospel of hopped beer.
As trade and manufacturing became more structured, so
did the business of beer, changing from a household craft to a
purely commercial enterprise, although breweries in large
estates survived until about 1900. Brewsters, women who
formed the backbone of the brewing craft in the Middle
Ages, did not make the transition.
Meanwhile, in the caves of southern Germany,
perpetually chilly conditions led to the evolution of a particular type of yeast adapted
to cooler temperatures. This bottom-fermenting yeast was first mentioned in the
fifteenth century, but it took another century or two before it became dominant in the
area. Appreciated for its clean, smooth flavors, this new “lager” (from the German
word meaning “to store”) beer would come to dominate the entire brewing world,
pushing top-fermenting ales into the realm of specialty beers, save for a few holdout
regions, but this came much later.
In 1722, porter was born, so the story goes. This might
have been just another curious regional specialty, except that it
happened in London, one of the largest cities on earth, where a
little thing called the Industrial Revolution was just starting.
England was coming down from a massive hangover spawned
by a curious experiment featuring homebrewed gin and unregulated retailers. The
effect on the health of the population was disastrous, and the Crown was motivated to
promote the more temperate beverage of beer. Hogarth’s famous pair of engravings,
Gin Lane and Beer Street, sum up the mood of the day pretty well.
Spurred by advances in technology and a burgeoning urban population, porter
rode the tidal wave of a whole new kind of factory brewing. For the working classes,
industrial employment and crowded urban conditions meant they lacked the time,
space, and resources to brew beer at home. This fueled the thirst for professionally
brewed beer.
As London boomed, so did the brewers, becoming among the most heavily
capitalized businesses in the world. As they rushed in to take advantage of this
swelling industry, competition became more intense, and brewers scrambled for any
financial advantage. Business interests prevailed. As in all times and places, there
were righteous brewers as well as scoundrels. The bad ones flaunted the laws against
additives, and loaded the beers with everything from chile peppers to opium. As early
as the fifteenth century there were prohibitions against “unwholesome” beer, and this
was further codified by a 1710 law which forbade anything other than hops to be used
for bittering, although the use of broom and wormwood was allowed by publicans. It
wasn’t until the early 1800s that the government cracked down on druggists selling all
manners of toxic additives to brewers, effectively ending the problem. Lifting the tax
on hops didn’t hurt, either.
Black malt, patented in 1817, meant that porter could be brewed largely from the
high-yielding pale malt, lowering the cost of production significantly. This changed
porter’s flavor but the public didn’t seem to mind. Sugar, a valuable product of
England’s colonial empire, was also added to the mix as a cheap fermentable adjunct,
further bringing down the quality.
The word “stout” as cant for a strong beer was in use fifty years before the birth
of porter. Later, of course, it came to specifically stand for a particularly strong dark
substyle of porter, and eventually far surpassed porter in popularity, thanks to the
Irish.
Pale ale, which had largely remained the domain of the country gentleman
throughout porter’s rise, became the next great fad, pushed along by the availability of
affordable glass drinking vessels. Now the more countrified pale ale brewers became
fair game for acquisition and development.
The immense wealth of the large mechanized brewers allowed them to focus on
things besides beer, and they began to play at high finance, first swallowing each
other up, then turning to smaller game in a cannibalistic orgy of consolidation and
brewery extinction that continues in Britain, as elsewhere, to this very day.
Pillar Ale Glass, c. 1860
Modern industrial technology was used to create glassware that showcased the new
pale ales and Pilseners.
In Continental Europe similar forces were at work, although less dramatically.
The Germans came gawking to London in the mid-l700s and took back many bits of
industrial technology, but the consolidation there didn’t reach the same kind of
feeding frenzy until very recently.
American Saloon Staff, c. 1900
In 1842, a pale lager brew was cooked up in the town of Plze (Pilsen), Bohemia.
By World War I, this newly fashionable Pilsener dominated the world beer market.
The close of the nineteenth century saw the demise of a large number of regional
specialties everywhere. People were less interested in the quaint and sometimes
quirky products of their hometowns, and now wanted the new, pale, clear, mass-
produced modern beers.
Two world wars on top of many earlier conflicts led to rationing and tax policies
that encouraged weaker beers. Germany’s unification and incorporation of Bavaria in
1871 led to the adoption of the Reinheitsgebot nationwide, killing off a number of
spiced and specialty brews in the North.
In America, the number of breweries peaked at 4,131 in 1873. Aided by
innovations like refrigerated railcars and large advertising budgets, established
regional breweries muscled their way onto the national scene. By the time Prohibition
began in 1919, there were only 1,568 left. After it was repealed in 1933, less than half
reopened, but many were in a severely weakened condition and didn’t last long.
Besides profit considerations, other factors led to American beer’s decline in
intensity and variety. World War I led to a suppression of German culture here, and
the popularity of Germanic styles such as Münchner seems to have vanished with it.
Since before 1550, corn, a near-flavorless adjunct, had been a great favorite with the
boys in the accounting department and with brewers trying to tame the high protein
barley that thrives here. Two world wars had the same effect here as in Europe:
weaker beers. And with the horrifying excesses of prohibition sandwiched in between,
people largely forgot what real beer was like.
Consumers of the mid-twentieth century were enraptured
with the new consumer culture, and were only too eager to
cast off the past. Like my father, who planed the claw feet off
thefamily’sVictoriandining-roomchairs,postwar
Americans wanted modern products for their sparkling
modern lives. Dave Brubeck on the hi-fi, Formica on the
dinette, and name-brand, crystal-clear canned beer chilling in the fridge. By the 1970s,
there were just a handful of breweries in this country, virtually all of them producing
pretty much the same beer.
Plus je bois, mieux je chante
“The more I drink, the better I sing.”
Just when things were at their darkest, a young Fritz Maytag bought the very
rundown Anchor Brewery in San Francisco, which had been inconsistently producing
a remnant of the Gold Rush era called “steam beer.” With an immense amount of
effort—and no small amount of cash—Maytag managed to turn Anchor into the
cornerstone of the craft brewing movement.
In the late 1970s, homebrewing began to inspire dreams of craft brewing. Not
knowing it was impossible, Jack McAuliffe started New Albion Brewing in Sonoma,
California. This company didn’t last long, but by then the fuse was lit. By the mid
1980s, craft breweries were springing up like mushrooms on the West Coast and
elsewhere.
The late 80s and early 90s were a period of booming growth for craft and home
brewing alike. Such success attracted a lot of people who had no business in the
business, and there followed a wave of brewery closings. To this day, there is still a
lot of used equipment lying around. So the industry has retrenched and settled into a
more sober period of modest growth. The people who are making imaginative, well-
crafted beers and marketing them with a bit of verve are doing just fine. I think it can
honestly be said that there has never been a better time to drink beer in America than
the present. And the future looks even brighter.
In a strange way it may be a good thing that America’s brewing tradition had the
artistic life just about squeezed out of it by the industrial brewers. This was liberating,
as American home and craft brewers felt completely free to invent a new style of
brewing unhindered by the need to preserve a vanishing folk tradition. In Britain, real
ale was (and is) imperiled, so the logical step was to form an organization dedicated to
preserving the tradition. CAMRA (the Campaign for Real Ales) succeeded in rescuing
real ale from the scrap heap, but at the same time, this movement was anything but
encouraging to innovation, although by now this has started to change.
The old familiar mergers and consolidation are rampant on the
Continent. There have been a lot of woeful tales from Belgium of late,
as treasured and eccentric products have been eradicated or
mainstreamed. The bock is just starting to hit the fan in Germany, which
is extremely vulnerable due to the sameness of so many of its beers.
With a lot of effort and a little luck, the same kind of creative energy
that has made the American craft beer so vibrant will find a way to
bring some vitality to these proud brewing nations.
Chapter 2
W
HAT IS
T
HIS
T
HING
C
ALLED
B
EER?
B
eer is the vast family
of fermented beverages made from plant starch,
usually derived from grain. It is a worldwide phenomenon; nearly every society with
access to grain, from the Himalayas to the Andes, makes beer. In Africa, millet is the
preferred grain. In South America, corn and manioc beers are most common. In Asia,
from Japan to Tibet, rice is the grain of choice. Elsewhere, palm, agave,
cassava/manioc, sorghum, and rye are all used to make beer. The variety is mind-
bending. Eskimos, as far as I know, have no traditional beer, having apparently tried
and discovered that it is impossible to get alcohol from walrus blubber.
In addition to the flavor and modest amount of alcohol it offers, beer is also
valued as a food—liquid bread—and as a safe, potable beverage, as the brewing
process renders water reliably safe to drink.
Brewmaster c. 1870
All types of grain and many edible roots contain starch, which are sugars linked
into chains. The molecules are too long for yeast to eat, so a process is needed to
break starch into fermentable sugar. In barley malt beer, we hijack the mechanism the
plant itself uses to make its own energy reserves available to the sprouting plant. In
the rice-based Japanese saké and Himalayan chang, special fungi supply the enzyme.
Chicha, the indigenous corn beer of Latin America, uses human saliva as the enzyme
source.
For beers broadly in the European tradition, barley reigns supreme with wheat a
significant second and others like rye and oats making occasional appearances. In
most cases, the grains are malted before brewing. In malting, the grains steep in cool
water until they sprout and just begin converting from a seed into a small plant before
being quickly dried and lightly toasted. The malting process activates starch-
dissolving enzymes in the grain and makes the kernels more crumbly and receptive to
water. The drying, or kilning, creates that lovely range of malty flavors we treasure in
beer.
WHAT MAKES A BEER?
Great beer is a delight to the senses. As we are highly visual creatures, the most
obvious characteristic of a beer is its color. The whole range, from pale golden yellow
to the inkiest black, comes from malt kilned in a variety of ways; mixing various
shades gives the brewer a huge palette to work with. And of course, these colored
malts display a huge range of different flavors and aromas as well.
“Strength” can describe either alcoholic content or the density of the unfermented
wort, called original gravity. They are closely related, as the more material that’s
available to ferment, the more alcohol that can be created. It’s not a rock-solid
relationship, because various factors influence how much of the potential sugars are
eventually transformed into alcohol. A rough rule of thumb is that an original gravity
of 1.050 (12 °P) will result in an alcohol content of 5 percent; at 1.070 (17 °P),
alcohol is around 7 percent. So it goes up and down the scale. With increasing gravity
come not only increasing alcohol but more intense flavors as well.
It is important to remember that color is not strength. Although draft Guinness
may taste strong to some, it actually has less alcohol than most (so-called) industrial
Pilsener-style beers. Color reflects simply the amount of roasted or toasted malt used,
which in most beers amounts to less than 25 percent of the recipe.
BODY AND TEXTURE
As beer hits your tongue, there is a perception of weight and texture that is
different from a flavor sensation. There may be a certain viscosity or oiliness on the
palate. In some beers there are mouth-puckering (or astringent) qualities that may add
to perceptions of weight or just be distracting. And of course sweetness also adds a
feeling of weightiness in the mouth.
Beer is a colloid, a suspension of small particles (in this case, proteins) in a liquid.
The proteins form a loose net that knits the liquid into a semi-solid. Gelatin is a
familiar example. The colloidal state is an important contributor to beer body as well
as head formation and longevity. Unfortunately, it is a house of cards, degrading over
time—this is the “snow” you sometimes see in a really old bottle of Eurobrew. The
colloidal state is also temperature dependent, often throwing a haze when the beer is
chilled. This sort of misbehavior is frowned upon in commercial beer, so manipulation
of the colloid composition by commercial brewers is one of the finer points of the
science. Most homebrewers are generally unconcerned about the details, except those
who want to master the subtleties of lager brewing. But then this is a breed of brewer
looking for trouble the same way mountain climbers do.
Grains—especially in their unmalted state—contain beta glucans and pentosans,
gummy polymers of sugar that can cause problems for the brewer. In the mash, their
high viscosity may make it hard to separate the sugar-rich wort from the spent grains.
In the finished beer, these gums can add a creamy or even an oily texture. This can be
a problem in cheap, canned corn beer, but in styles such as Belgian witbiers and rye
beers, the oily texture can be a welcome addition.
Carbonation adds texture and a certain measure of flavor to beer. Carbon dioxide
gas actually dissolves in the beer as carbonic acid, adding fizz and an acidic bite. The
quantity can be easily controlled by the brewer and is usually driven by style. British
ales are usually lightly carbonated, which allows their subtle complexity to shine. In
larger quantities, dissolved CO
2
can mask other flavors, especially hops—another
reason why mainstream beers taste so bland. Wheat beers are highly carbonated, but
are usually poured from the bottle in such a way as to remove some of the excess gas
by the time the beer is in the glass.
Units of Measurement in Beer
QualityUnit
Comment
Alcohol% by
Volume
The international standard
Weight
% byAmerica, from 1933 to about 1995
Gravity of
Wort
(Original
Gravity)
OGSpecific Gravity, often expressed minus the decimal point
°Plato
Sugars, in percentage—new standard
°Balling
Sugars, in percentage—old standard
Belgian
Degrees
Original Gravity, decimal shifted: 1050 = 5° Belgian
Brewers
Pounds
Sugars, expressed as pounds/British barrel. One Brewers Pound per Bbl = 10028 OG.
Wort Color SRMModern spectrophotometric method, corresponds roughly to the old Lovibond series.
°Lovibond
Old arbitrary system of colored glasses to be compared visually to beer samples. Still used
to refer to malt color in the United States.
EBC
European Brewing Convention color measurement standard. Approximately double at any
given color, but not precisely correlated to °SRM
Malt Color
Units
°SRM x Lb ÷ gallons. Very rough measure of total malt color added to beer. The higher
up the color scale, the less accurate it gets. See p 62
.
Hop
Bitterness
IBU
Parts-per-million of iso-alpha acid present in the finished beer. Spectrophotometrically
determined.
HBU
Homebrew Bittering Units. Estimation of hop bittering substances added. Not accurate by
itself as a predictor of beer bitterness. Alpha Acid % x ounces ÷ gallons. Also called
Alpha Acid Units (AAU).
Carbonation
Volumes
CO
2
Amount of CO dissolved in beer, the volume of the gas compared to the volume of the
2
liquid. Since the density of the gas (and the liquid too for that matter) varies by
temperature, the same volume of gas will be at a higher pressure when the temperature is
higher. Typical beer carbonation levels are at 2.2 to 3.0 volumes. See p 68
.
BEER FLAVOR
As you taste, it is important to distinguish between flavor and aroma, although it
may be hard to pull them apart at times. Flavor is defined by certain chemical
interactions in the mouth, primarily on the tongue. There used to be four recognized
flavors: sweet, sour, salty, and bitter. It turns out there’s another, umami, that is found
in soy sauce, fish, seaweed, and MSG, and that is very important in Japanese and
other Asian cuisines. The chemical responsible for this is glutamate, an amino acid.
I would show you one of those textbook tongue diagrams where the organ is
broken into areas according to which flavor it detects best, but it turns out that’s all
wrong. So much for health class. The little bumps on your tongue are called papillae,
and they contain the sensing apparatus for the different flavors. They are not
concentrated by type, but are spread all over the tongue.
Sweetness and bitterness are the primary players in beer flavor. The sweetness of
malt and the bitter hop resins form a yin and yang of balance every brewer has to deal
with in every single brew. Additionally, most dark malts have roasty/toasty qualities
that fall on the bitter side of the balance equation.
Sweetness in beer comes mainly from unfermented sugars. During mashing, the
brewer can make the brew more or less fermentable. Yeast love maltose, the primary
sugar that comes from malt, but will not ferment some of the other sugars liberated
during brewing.
Bellarmine Jug
From 1400 to 1600, these pot-bellied stoneware jugs were used to transport and serve
beer and wine across Northern Europe.
Starches and Other Polymers of Glucose in Beer
Glucose
Single molecule. In small quantities (≤ 10%) in wort.
Fermentable
Maltose
Two glucose molecules linked together. This is the primary fermentable in beer.
Sweet.
Fermentable
Maltotriose
Three glucose molecules linked together. Barely sweet.
Variably
fermentable
Maltotetraose Four glucose molecules linked together. Not sweet.Not fermentable
Dextrins
Between 4 and 25 glucose units. Not sweet.
Not fermentable
Starch
Linear or branching structures of many glucose units, typically around 1,000.
Not fermentable
Bitterness comes primarily from the addition of hops (or rarely, other bitter herbs)
to beer. These green fluffy cones contain bitter resins and aromatic compounds that
change chemically and dissolve in the wort when boiled. More important than
bitterness is balance. The balance between malt sweetness and hop bitterness is the
backbone of any beer recipe, but other components like tannin, roasty/toasty flavors,
acidity, smoke, alcohol, and others may also have roles to play in some beers. As the
gravity of the beer goes up, so does the amount of bitterness needed to balance it.
Salt (sodium chloride) can play a role in beer flavor, as it is often present in
brewing water to one degree or another. It doesn’t affect the chemistry of the mash,
but in small amounts, salt can give the impression of a full-bodied richness, and has
been employed as a seasoning ingredient in some very light beers to achieve just this
effect.
ELEMENTS OF AROMA
The Laws of Aroma in Beer
1. You want some.
2. Use more than you think. It will go away.
3. Complexity is good.
4. Complicated is bad.
In contrast to the limited universe of five flavors, the spectrum of aromas humans
can detect is essentially unlimited. Beer plays into this by offering several hundred
known aroma chemicals, which can be grouped into several classes.
Alcohols Various forms, from ethanol to longer chains, called fusel alcohols, with
more intense aromas (think isopropyl alcohol).
Aldehydes Family of fruity and perfumey aromas. Most common in beer is
acetaldehyde, which has a fresh, green-apple aroma.
Diacetyl The chemical that gives movie popcorn its buttery zing. May add a certain
richness in very small amounts, but if noticeably buttery it’s usually an indicator of a
contamination or yeast stress problem. Also a natural product of normal fermentation;
in lagers, there is a need for a short period of elevated temperatures (twenty-four
hours at 68 to 70° F or 20 to 21° C) to allow it to be reduced to less objectionable
chemicals.
Esters Fruity or sometimes spicy aromas mostly due to yeast activity. At high levels
in Belgian yeasts, especially when fermented at higher temperatures.
Ethyl acetate
Fruity, nail polish remover
Isoamyl acetate
Banana
Ethyl hexanoate Ripe apple
Organic acids A result of yeast and bacterial activity, which may be pleasant or
unpleasant depending on context and concentration.
Acetic
Vinegar
Butyric
Rancid butter or cheese
Capric, caproic, caprylic, capranoic
Goaty (like goat cheese); sweaty
Isovaleric, isobutyric, 2-methyl-butyric Horse (from Brettanomyces)
Lactic
Yogurt, sour cream
Valeric
Stinky cheese
Phenol A wide range of chemicals, many of which are noxious—smoky or medicinal,
for example. Desirable ones may be produced by specialized yeasts such as strains
used in Bavarian weizens or Belgian ales.
4-vinyl guiaicol
“Clove” aroma found in weizens
4-ethyl phenol
Barnyard; a marker for Brettanomyces activity
Pyrazines, etc. Malt aroma chemicals from bready to malty to nutty, to toasty to
roasty. These are formed exclusively from malt kilning, even in the palest malts. Malt
extract has been largely stripped of aroma, which is why a pound of crystal malt or a
mini-mash makes such a dramatic improvement.
Terpenoids Hop aromatics, mainly, which differ greatly according to variety. Hop
aromas come from the plant and dissolve into the beer unscathed. However, boiling
does drive them out again, which is why aromatic hops are added at the end of the
boil, and sometimes even (as in dry hopping) during fermentation. Excess CO
2
gas
given off during fermentation will also scrub hop aroma out of beer. And time, of
course, does its damage too.
This list does not include spiced, fruit, or infected beers (see
, although in
both cases many of the chemical classes are the same.
Ale Glass, c. 1840, possibly Pittsburgh
THE FINE ART OF DRINKING BEER
It takes effort to brew your own beer, so you might as well make sure you serve it
in the best possible manner. A well-crafted beer, when served at the proper
temperature, in the proper glass, with a proper head, can be a thing of wonder.
Start with a clean glass—very clean. If there are bubbles clinging to the side, it’s
not clean. The dirt provides nucleation sites for bubbles, which will drain a beer of its
fizz prematurely. Modern dishwashing detergent is pretty good, so this shouldn’t be
too tough. If you’re washing by hand, make sure the detergent is thoroughly rinsed; if
not it can collapse the head. And be sure to dry the glass by hand as well, because
minerals from dried-up water spots can count for dirt.
The choice of glassware has of late been made into a pseudoscience as tricky and
opaque as quantum chromodynamics, with a numbing variety of strangely shaped
vessels accompanied by dire warnings lest you commit the unforgivable faux pas of
serving, say, a lambic in a gueuze glass. As much a fan of drinking glasses as I am, I
have to tell you this is a rather modern conceit, concocted in the last half of the
twentieth century. Before about 1750, little distinction was made between even wine
and beer, with glasses holding whatever was being passed around the table. People
felt lucky to have a glass at all.
However, in some countries brewers are very particular about the serving
methods used for their beers, even specifying the glass shape. In Belgium, every beer
has its own glass, and in some bars if the proper glass is already in use, you’ll have to
pick another beer. Of course glass selection is not all frippery. Certain styles do show
well in their “traditional” glassware, but you should treat these suggestions for what
they are, and not inviolable laws.
Most important is matching glass size to beer strength. You wouldn’t (well,
shouldn’t) drink barley wine by the pint, so small glasses are best. The strong October
beers of England were drunk from glasses holding barely 2 ounces. Some beers have a
lot of carbonation, which demands a glass with some additional headspace. Topers in
Berlin quaffed their low-alcohol weissbier from huge tumblers holding a gallon or so,
capacious enough for an immense bouffant of foam. It is best to pour out all of a
bottle of homebrew at one time, as the yeast is almost always unattractive and
sometimes adds a muddy taste, so having a large enough glass is very important.
Having some extra headspace also allows for aromas to collect, giving the sniffer a
sniffable experience.
Various tapers can either compact or support the head. A Pilsener glass with its
ice cream cone shape supports a large, fluffy head. Inward tapering glasses will force
the head together as it rises in the glass, as well as helping to keep the aroma inside
the glass. A tulip-shaped glass both concentrates and supports the head.
If you’re doing a judging or critical tasting, a 6-ounce wineglass is the
internationally approved standard for beverage sensory analysis, but given the nature
of most homebrew judgings, simple hard plastic cups are a necessary evil.
Serving temperature is also very important. To some degree this is dictated by
tradition—cellar temperature for British real ales, for example—but generally weaker
beers are served cooler than stronger ones. A fine, fruity British ale will taste weird
and lifeless if served ice cold. So will a German lager for that matter, which is why
they’re served at about 45° F (7° C). Dark, malty, or strong beers may be served
warmer than pale ones. High carbonation levels require colder serving temperatures to
prevent overfoaming.
“We have besides cups made of horns of beastes, of
cockernuts, of goords, of eggs of estriches; others made of
the shells of divers fishes brought from the Indies and other
places, and shining like mother of pearle. Come to plate,
every tavern can afford you flat bowles, french bowles,
prounet cups, beare bowles, beakers; and private
householders in the citie when they make a feast to entertain
their friends, can furnish their cupboards with flagons,
tankards, beere cups, wine bowles, some whits, some percell
gilt, some gilt all over, some with covers, others without, of
sundry shapes and qualities.”
— Heywood, Philocothonista or Drunkard Opened, Dissected and
Anatomized (1635)
Pouring Pour right down the middle of the glass. You want to release some
carbonation and get a good head going. Let it settle, and keep pouring. Patience will
be rewarded with a dense, long-lived head and a less gassy beer.
Storage Cool and dark is the rule here. But the truth is that most homebrew is at its
prime some time before you get your hands on it. If you’ve ever tasted beer at the
brewery, you know this. Nonetheless, proper storage can keep deterioration at a
minimum.
Keep lagers cold The cold conditioning of these styles is an essential part of the
brewing process. To do this correctly requires a temperature-controlled environment
such as a dedicated refrigerator.
Keep ales cool A basement is the ideal location. Storing at near-freezing temperatures
will cause a harmless but unsightly protein haze to develop, interfering with the
perfect drinking experience. All the processes of aging in beer are accelerated by heat,
so keep your beer away from radiators and other hot spots.
Avoid temperature changes Repeated heating and cooling will cause the protein
complexes in beer to destabilize and come out as haze. One trip in and out of the
fridge won’t kill a beer, but try to avoid temperature swings if you can. In the East and
Midwest, cellars serve well for cellaring. Elsewhere, a closet or room toward the
center of the home will have to do until you add that second refrigerator. In warmer
climates, space in wine storage lockers is available for rent at reasonable prices.
Avoid light Sunlight and fluorescent tubes shine with a lot of blue-green light that can
quickly turn a beer “skunky.” Brown bottles are good protection, but green ones
generally stink. And where there’s light, there’s often heat, which is bad for beer.
Give it time Most beer is not really meant for long-term storage, but most homebrew
benefits from a few months of aging. Obviously, since the word “lager” means “to
store,” such beers benefit from between two months to a year of cold storage. Very
strong beers such as barley wines and imperial stouts really need a year at least, and
sometimes are splendiferous at ten.
Beer Serving Temperatures
Pale Lager
40-45° F (4.5-7° C)
Dark Lager
45-50° F (4.5-10° C)
Strong Lager
50-55° F (10-13° C)
Wheat Beers
40-50° F (4.5-10° C)
Real Ale
50-55° F (10-13° C)
Cream, Blonde Ales
40-45° F (4.5-7° C)
Belgian Abbey Dubbel
50-55° F (10-13° C)
Belgian Pale Ales
40-45° F (4.5-7° C)
Belgian Abbey Tripels
40-45° F (4.5-7° C)
Lambic (all)
40-50° F (4.5-10° C)
These temperatures are a little on the cool side to allow for warming up slightly when they are poured.
Chapter 3
A
N
O
VERVIEW OF
B
REWING
WHY HOMEBREW?
You probably have an idea—maybe even a mission—behind your desire to brew.
Lofty or humble, it’s a testament to the depths of beer’s cultural roots that people get
so many different kinds of satisfaction from brewing. Here are a few reasons to
brew— yeah, like you need another one.
Brew what you want The marketing geniuses at the world’s industrial breweries
haven’t a clue as to what kind of beer you like. Even if they did, the best they could
do would be to dump it into a pot with a hundred thousand other preferences and brew
an accountant-approved approximation of the resulting mélange— which is exactly
what they do. By brewing it yourself, you can have what you want, when you want it.
You are the niche market supreme. You can brew for yourself, your lover, your
parents, your new brewing friends, or the guests at your company picnic. Every real or
imagined style is within your reach: dunkel, Pilsener, smoked habañero ale, strong
pale ale, wheat porter. If you seek out rare and exotic beers, your own nanobrewery
can be the source for the most rarefied beers in the world.
Brew for knowledge Brewing adds a huge new dimension to your understanding of
beer. Wine is largely about agriculture and weather; brewing is all about process: the
way malt is made and kilned, the way beer is mashed, at what time hops are added to
the boil, the temperature of fermentation. These and dozens of other factors have
profound effects on every beer. The best way to learn, as we know, is by doing. By
brewing.
Sharpen your palate Whether nervously watching for flaws in one’s own brew, or
trying to untangle the secrets of a favorite commercial beer, brewing makes one
highly attuned to the many tastes that come together in beer. Chocolate malt, Cascade
hops, and a hundred other ingredients cease to be meaningless names, but snap into
focus as living entities imparting their unique personality traits to beer.
Relive the past The past is lost to us forever, but brewing gives us a unique power to
raise the dead. Beers of fifty, a hundred, or a thousand years ago may be brought to
life, not with total accuracy perhaps, but near enough to transport you to another age
quite effectively. You don’t have to imagine how it felt to quaff a strong, dark, smoky,
herb-infused gruit ale from medieval Germany. If you brew, you can track down some
bog myrtle, cook one up, and taste it for yourself.
Express your true nature Brewing is a direct creative act, a far cry from the
tangential purposes to which our cubicle-bound labors are usually applied. You can
get an inspiration for a new beer, go home and brew it, and in a few weeks delight
yourself and your friends with your masterpiece. But more than merely a simple
pleasure, homebrewing is beer as art, a high calling of our nature.
Be the life of the party Your friends will brag about you shamelessly, even as they
unapologetically “forget” to bring beer to your place. But for membership in the
glorious community of brewers, it’s a small price to pay. A passion for brewing,
combined with the social bond created by the simple act of sharing a beer, creates a
true kinship among brewers.
Brew as a meditation Except for those mad moments when the kettle boils over for
the sixth time, brewing is a very relaxing and rewarding activity. Monastic traditions
have long recognized the power of manual labor to fortify the soul. Take the harvest
of the earth, mix it with pure water, bind and purify it with fire, and transform it with
the mystery of yeast, once known as “Godisgood.” There’s plenty to contemplate
here. And I can tell you, a shelf full of freshly bottled ale is a deeply calming sight.
Brew better than the next guy For those of a competitive bent, homebrewing offers
plenty of opportunities to test your mettle. And nothing will whip your brewing skills
into shape like the pressure of a looming competition. Even if you’re not a Type-A
personality, competitions can give you informed and impartial feedback on your beers
and how well they match the styles you’re shooting for.
Embark on a new career Most microbreweries began as a gleam in some
homebrewer’s eye. You too can give up your fast-track software or biotech career to
wear the rubber boots of the brewer. If you are thinking of starting a small brewery, it
is essential—even if you don’t plan to be the brewer yourself—that you learn to brew.
Craft brewing is a very product-focused business, and you can’t afford not to know as
much as possible about how the product is made.
Simply the best beer Without a doubt, well-made homebrew is the best beer in the
world. With some practice, you can brew with greater control, and with more and
better ingredients than the typical microbrewery. Your beer can be superbly
conditioned, adjunct-free, unfiltered, and unpasteurized. Blowing the dust off a five-
year-old homebrewed barley wine and wallowing in its mature, malty essence is a
treat seldom equaled in the world of mere commercial products.
King Gambrinus
This myth-shrouded figure is the patron symbol of the brewer’s art.
THE BREWING PROCESS IN A NUTSHELL
Factors Affecting Starch Conversion and Wort Fermentability
* pH is actually not this simple, and the optimum varies by temperature.
Fortunately it doesn’t require a lot of managing. Use proper techniques
in other respects, and pH will usually take care of itself.
To strip it to its essence, brewing is a two-stage process. First, hot water is mixed
with crushed barley and allowed to stand in a process called mashing. The
temperature of this operation is critical, and usually takes place in the neighborhood of
150° F (65.5° C). In under an hour the enzymes convert most of the malt starch into
sugar, and the mash becomes sweet as a result. In the second stage, the liquid—now
called wort—is collected and boiled with the hops.
That’s the simple version. Other changes in the mash occur at three other
temperature points, although they aren’t necessarily involved in every brew. At low
temperatures, 95 to 100° F (35 to 38° C), gummy substances like glucans and
pentosans are degraded, lowering the viscosity of the mash, which may make sparging
easier and more efficient. At 113 to 131° F (45 to 55° C), proteolytic enzymes chop
up some of the long protein molecules into smaller chunks. The length of a protein (or
fragment) determines whether it will contribute to the body of a beer, aid in head
formation and retention, or simply be a nuisance as a haze former when the beer is
chilled. In the old days when protein levels were higher and malting tended to be less
consistent, more complicated mashing schedules were needed to produce acceptable
beers. With modern malts, a protein rest may actually do damage, breaking up
proteins needed for a good head and body. For this reason, a protein rest is not used in
most of the recipes in this book. For today’s mega-brewers and others who wish to
produce a shelf-stable, chill haze-free product with extreme efficiency, protein
management is crucial. You have to decide whether you share those concerns. For
most homebrew, a simple infusion mash works perfectly.
Great Brewing Words
Barm
Yeast
Bung
Wooden plug for a cask
Coolship
A shallow pan for cooling wort
Gyle
A brew, batch, or fermenting vessel
Lobb
To add yeast
Shive
Bung with a hole into which is inserted a spile
Spile
A peg inserted into a shive used to regulate carbonation
Tun
A mashing vessel; in older terms could also refer to a fermenter
Wort
Unfermented beer
The other key temperature is the mash out. This is usually
accomplished by the addition of near-boiling water at the end
of the mash. This raises the temperature of the goods to 165 to
170° F (74 to 76.5° C), which has two effects. First it stops
enzymatic activity, fixing the ratio of fermentable to
unfermentable sugars. It also helps gelatinize some of the
remaining starch and gums, allowing for a free-flowing sparge,
an important asset.
During the starch-conversion rest, there are plenty of subtle
details brewers can use to fine-tune their beer. Fermentability is
the main character that can be affected by the way the mash is conducted. Time,
temperature, dilution, and pH can all have a modest effect; they are usually combined
if a particularly sweet or dry beer is desired.
At the end of the mash, the grain bed is drained of its sugary juice, now called
wort, and hot water is added to rinse any remaining sugars out of the grain, a process
called sparging. More practical details are in the how-to section on mashing, p. 37.
If you’re an extract brewer, somebody has done all this work for you, and this is
where you take over.
The wort is transferred to a kettle and brought to a boil. In modern brewing (that
is, after 1500), hops are the bittering herb of choice, but many other herbs and spices
have been used throughout history. Bitterness is required to balance the sweetness of
malt, and some herbs, like hops, have antiseptic properties that allow the beer to keep
longer without spoiling. The bitter materials in the hops, the alpha acids, have to
isomerize (change shape chemically), rendering them bitter and soluble in the wort.
Although some bitterness develops quickly, it takes two to three hours to reach
maximum bitterness.
Hydrometers
These glass instruments are used to determine the gravity of a wort.
Hops are usually added in several doses. Hop aromatics are volatile and waft
away during the boil. The bitter alpha acids take a while to work their way into the
beer. In order to have both, one needs to make multiple additions—typically at sixty-to-
ninety minutes, fifteen-to-thirty minutes, and at two-to-five minutes or just as the heat
is turned off.
During the boil, proteins from the malt combine with hop tannins and precipitate
out of solution, appearing as clumps of stuff called hot break that looks—and is—like
egg drop soup. This may be accelerated by adding a coagulant such as Irish moss to
the kettle for the last ten minutes or so of the boil.
The wort is then cooled as rapidly as possible, usually with a wort-chiller
circulating cold water, although in the old days it was simply placed in shallow pans
called coolships. Sticking your kettle into a snowbank works pretty well, too. If the
cooling is rapid enough, additional protein will precipitate. This is called the cold
break.
After the wort is cooled and transferred to a fermenter, yeast is added. At first, it
just reproduces right there in your beer. Once it has used up all available oxygen, it
attacks the sugars with a vengeance. At full tilt, it can generate a large, foamy head
that can rise a foot or more. As it feeds, yeast produces carbon dioxide and alcohol
along with small amounts of many other chemicals that give beer much of its subtle
flavor and aroma. The insanity goes on for a few days, then, having scarfed up the
most digestible sugars, the yeast calms down and nibbles on the leftovers. Eventually,
there’s nothing left to eat; it gets up from the table and settles to the bottom of the
tank. Total time: about a week for a normal strength beer to get through this primary
fermentation. It takes another three weeks or so for the same beer to be ready to drink.
Ale and Beer Fermentation Temperatures
TypeFermentation
Conditioning
Ale55-80°F (13-26.5° C)
55-68° F (13-20° C)
Lager
48-52°F (9-11° C)
33-38° F (0.5-3.5° C)
The temperature of fermentation and subsequent aging affects the beers flavor
and aroma. At higher temperatures, yeast produces much more of the secondary
chemicals that impart fruity or spicy notes to the beer. This is the primary difference
between ales and lagers.
You could drink the beer at this point, but it would be disgustingly flat. To
carbonate the beer, carbon dioxide must be added. In homebrewed bottled beer, a
measured amount of sugar is added to the batch before it’s placed into bottles.
Fermentation restarts, and there’s no place for the gas to go, so it dissolves in the beer,
making it lively. This usually takes another two weeks. Draft beer can be carbonated
in a similar process, or by simply hooking up a tank of CO
2
to the keg and allowing a
week or so for the gas to permeate the beer.
What is an Enzyme?
Enzymes are proteins that act as catalysts, facilitating chemical reactions. They are
prime movers for just about all of the chemical reactions in life, a number of which
are key to brewing. There are a few you need to get to know personally.
Enzymes are not general-purpose catalysts; each one is tailored to a particular
chemical reaction, or even a single step of one. Each chemical reaction has to
overcome a certain energy level to get from one stable form to another. Between is an
unstable state—think of climbing and then balancing on top of a high wall. Enzymes
work by stabilizing this transitional state, lowering the energy needed (the height of
the wall) for a reaction to occur by as much a million-fold or even more.
Enzymes are active in malting. Proteolytic (protein-degrading) enzymes attack the
walls of starch granules, making the starch available during brewing. Other enzymes
are activated during malting, getting them ready to produce a plant— or a beer. Unless
you’re malting your own, this is really all you need to know.
The mash is a different story. There, all the enzymes are involved in chopping up
longer molecules.
Enzyme
Target Molecule
Useful Temperature Range
Beta
Glucanase
Glucans (gums)
95-113° F (35-45° C)
Protease,
Peptidase
Proteins
115-131° F (46-55° C)
Beta Amylase
Starch (more
fermentable wort)
140-149° F (60-65° C)
Alpha
Amylase
Starch (less
fermentable wort)
149-160° F (65-71° C)
These enzymes all operate at different temperatures, and have specific requirements
for mash dilution, pH, and other parameters. If all this sounds hopelessly complex, it
is. If you’re a producer of industrial yellow beer, you’ve got to know it cold. But as a
small-scale brewer you can rely on millennia of traditional practice to guide you
through the basics, and
then you only have to make a few decisions.
Most important are the amylolytic, or starch-dissolving enzymes. There are two of
them, and since they operate at slightly different temperatures, you can shift the
burden from one to the other by mashing at a higher or lower temperature. Alpha
amylase works by chopping up starch molecules willy-nilly, resulting in fragments of
randomly varying size. Beta amylase is a fastidious nibbler, working from the end of
the starch molecules and biting off one maltose sugar with every nip. Maltose is the
sugar that yeast most likes to eat, meaning that favoring beta amylase will produce a
very fermentable wort. Favoring alpha amylase, on the other hand, will leave more of
the longer sugars and dextrins (halfway between starch and sugar), which means that
some of the wort sugars will be unfermentable, thus resulting in residual sweetness in
the finished beer.
STUFF
No gear, no hobby.
Homebrewingsometimesseemslikeahobbyforequipment-crazed,
mechanomaniacal, re-animating Frankensteins. I must admit I am guilty of crimes
along these lines, but I am happy to tell you that this is not normal. You do need a
certain kit of tools, but I promise you don’t need to learn to weld unless you want to.
For every junkyard junkie with a TIG torch in hand, there are dozens of happy
kitchen brewers who make great beer the way Fred Astaire danced—smooth and
graceful, never breaking a sweat. The homebrew shop in your area will offer basic and
deluxe equipment kits, and are often a great source of information and contacts with
other brewers in your area. You might even call them and ask about a homebrew club
in your area, then go to a meeting and see what’s up. Ask lots of questions. If you
really feel like you need hands-on help, offer to split your first batch with someone in
exchange for their assistance.
Every homebrew shop on the planet sells a basic starter package. This should
include:
7- to 10-gallon capacity fermenter, typically plastic (or better, a 6.5-gallon glass
carboy)
Rubber stopper with hole
Fermentation lock
Racking cane, hose, shutoff clip
Bottling wand
Bottle capper plus caps
Carboy brush (if a carboy is included in the kit)
Hydrometer and jar
Kits don’t typically contain these items, but you’ll need them:
3- to 6-gallon stainless steel pot (enameled steel will work as long as it’s
unchipped)
Stainless steel spoon sized to fit your pot
Two cases plus a six-pack of non-screw-off beer bottles. You can buy them empty
or full.
A powdered brewery cleaner such as Five Star PBW or B-Brite
Unscented household bleach or homebrew sanitizer
Stainless steel pot scrubber (copper’s okay as well), and a small all-stainless hose
clamp
A reasonably accurate thermometer such as one suited for cooking.
Clockwise from top:
Carboy, racking tube, bottling wand, fermentation lock, hose
“Wing” Capper
The quality of these items is usually decent enough, and there aren’t an awful lot
of different models from which to choose. I do recommend two additions or upgrades.
First, if the kit doesn’t include one, get a large glass 6- to 7-gallon carboy. The ones
usually sold are recycled chemical jugs that hold 25 liters and have a screw-on cap
useful for keeping the dust out between brews. These are far better than trying to
ferment in a plastic tub, which, sooner or later, will cause problems due to the
impossibility of cleaning it.
My other suggested upgrade is to get one of the old style bench cappers rather
than the lever (or wing) cappers often sold with kits. These can be found at almost any
flea market (eBay has one hundred and forty three of them as I write this) for ten
bucks or so. In addition to their versatility and effectiveness, they provide a
comforting link to some unknown old-time homebrewer. The wing-lever cappers
usually included with the kits work fine on normal beer bottles but may have trouble
with champagne bottles and other eccentric packages.
Bench Capper
The stainless steel pot scrubber is the kind made of coarse steel wool material.
Attach it to the intake side of your racking cane, and it makes a great hop filter.
Other than that, the beginner stuff is pretty straightforward. We’ll get to the
advanced equipment later.
GET ON WITH IT
Brewing is no more difficult than making lasagna. If you can whip up this
noodley mélange, then you can make terrific beer. Limits on time, space, or money
need not stop you. All you really need is desire.
You will start with an extract-plus-grain beer, using fresh hops and a little crystal
malt for flavor. The procedure is simple. It will take you a couple of hours, plus about
a month of waiting.
Some shops will try to sell you a can of extract and 3 pounds of corn sugar. Run
for the door! This vile mixture will create a thin, screechy half-beer, diluted with pure
alcohol. If you want horrible beer, there’s plenty on the grocery store shelves; no point
in brewing it. Malt, not sugar, gives beer its flavor. Sugar has a place in brewing, as
you will see. But not like this.
In the shop, you’ll notice that extracts are available in a numbing variety. Many
are kits designed to be used with added corn sugar, and are formulated for people who
want the simplest possible brewing procedure, which is the norm in Canada and
Britain. Ignore these for now. We’re only interested in malt extract as a bulk
ingredient.
I could give you some namby-pamby baby steps recipe, but there’s no reason why
beginning brewers shouldn’t make quality kick-ass beers. I’ve set the limits so that
whatever quantities you use, it will be a perfectly drinkable beer. But you will have to
make some choices. That’s what being a brewer is all about. And there’s no sense
messing around with dry yeast unless you can’t get anything else. For good clean
flavor and known pedigreed strains, liquid is absolutely the way to go.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.050
Alcohol/vol: 5.5 to 5.8%
Color: Gold to brown
Bitterness: It’s up to you
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
Ingredients:
RECIPE
[Your Name Here]—Your First Radical Brew
5.0 lb (2.3 kg) pale dry unhopped malt extract (or 6-7 lb of liquid malt extract)
0.5-1.5 lb (227-680 g) (depending on how malty you want it) crystal malt, any color you choose. Darker
malt will make darker beer, of course. Smell, taste, and buy what appeals to you. This will be the
signature flavor of the beer. Buy pre-ground if they have it; otherwise you can crack it lightly with a
coffee grinder or more percussive means. It just needs to be crushed a little, not ground to a powder.
1 knit bag or cheesecloth to hold grain
4-8 oz (113-227 g) high quality aroma hops such as Kent Goldings (English), Saaz (Czech), Hallertau
(German), or Cascade (American). More hops will make a more bitter, aromatic beer. I recommend
whole hops, but pellets are fine. Just use 25 percent less. Do not use high-alpha hops here. If you don’t
want plenty of hop aroma, cut the final addition down to 1 oz (28 g) or less.
To figure your hop quantities, see the chart below:
This hop bitterness chart follows the procedure outlined below, with the hops added in stages:
1/4 for 60 minutes
1/4 for 20 minutes
1/2 at the end of the boil
Use this chart to find quantities for your preferred bitterness level.
Hop Bitterness Chart (follows 1/4 + 1/4 + 1/2 use below)
Estimated IBUs Contributed by:
Variety
AA%4 oz (Il3g)
6 oz (170 g)
8 oz (227 g)
Kent Goldings
528
42
56
Saaz
317
26
34
Hallertau
4.525
38
50
Cascade
5.531
46
62
Use one package of liquid ale yeast. There are tons to choose from, so it can be kind of intimidating.
Generally, English yeasts are slightly fruity and complex; German ale yeasts are super clean; Belgian
ones vary, but are often full of earthy spiciness. Some accentuate malt, others hops, and some have their
own assertive character. There’s a lot of information on the Wyeast and White Labs Web sites, and your
shop owners will have some experience too. Anyway, pick one; it’s just a batch of beer. You don’t have
to overthink it right now; there’s plenty of time for that later.
6 gal (28 L) filtered (dechlorinated) tap water
For reference, here are some IBU levels in common commercial beers: Budweiser 11; Heineken 17;
Beck’s 24; Bass Ale 27; Guinness draft 35; Sierra Nevada Pale Ale 38; Pilsner Urquell 40; Anchor Steam
40; Anchor Liberty 54; Arrogant Bastard 75.
Procedure:
This recipe assumes you can boil at least 2.5 gallons (9.5 liters) of liquid (this will
require a 12-quart pot or larger).
First, be sure everything is clean. New equipment should just require a rinse to
knock off any dust, but if you’re recycling somebody else’s carboy, use PBW or
other oxygenated cleaner (like Oxy-Clean or unscented automatic dishwasher
detergent) to get the scum off. Once clean, sanitize your carboy (or plastic
fermenter). Mix 2 teaspoons unscented household bleach with a quart of water,
and swish this around in the carboy to sanitize. If you purchased a brewery
sanitizer, follow directions for mixing and use. Chlorine is powerful stuff, and it
won’t take more than a minute or two. Drain and rinse three times with tap
water—it’s generally sterile enough for this purpose. Then run 2.5 gallons of the
tap water from the filter into your kettle, which needs to be clean but not
sanitized, and 3 gallons into the freshly sanitized carboy/fermenter.
Place the ground malt into the knit or cheesecloth bag and tie shut, using cotton
string if you need to. Add this to the water in the kettle.
Place the kettle on the stove, and turn on the heat. Slowly raise to about 200° F
(93° C). Pull out the grain bag and place it in a saucepan so it can drain. Squeeze
it gently, and add any liquid you can get out of it back into the kettle. Add the dry
(or liquid) malt extract, stirring to keep it from scorching. Keep the heat on and
raise to a boil. The moment the wort reaches boiling is the most dangerous part of
brewing. Boilovers can happen in a flash, which is why brewers use the term
“jump” to describe the effect. Once you hit a boil, turn the heat down a little and
add a sprinkling of hops. Usually this will make the beer want to jump out of the
pot, as the hops provide plentiful nucleation sites for the steam bubbles. Watch the
wort until it settles down to a comfortable boil, then add one-fourth of your total
hop amount. Note the time.
After 40 minutes, add another one-fourth of the hops. This will provide both
bitterness and aroma. As the boil nears completion, you will notice globs of fluffy
stuff that looks (and is) very much like the drops in egg drop soup. This is
proteinaceous material that has combined with tannins in the hops, coagulating
into the flakes you see swimming around in there. There is a type of marine algae
called Irish moss that brewers have long used to aid this process. A small amount
is added in the last 10 minutes of the boil. Personally, I have not noticed a speck
of difference in the finished beer, but it is kind of cool, and it does make bigger
flakes of the stuff.
After another 20 minutes, add the rest of the hops and turn off the heat. This will
contribute aroma but add very little bitterness.
There are a million schemes for chilling wort. The simplest is to just allow it to
cool as it sits, but rapid cooling is important for lots of reasons. As it cools it
reaches a point where it’s vulnerable to various infectious beasties, and there are
chemical reasons too. A rather unpleasant vegetal-smelling compound called
DMS (dimethyl sulfide) is formed at elevated wort temperatures. Normally driven
off by boiling, it can stink up a beer if the wort is allowed to cool too slowly. Slow
cooling may lead to hot wort aeration and problems of oxidation that could show
up as stale, cardboardy flavors later on. Rapid cooling also facilitates the
precipitation and eventual removal of excess protein gunk, called the cold break.
One simple method is to put the kettle into a sink or laundry tub full of cold water,
and keep adding ice to the water while gently stirring the wort. In northern
winters, snow can be used.
Wort chillers can be purchased or built. The simplest sort consists of 20 to 30 feet of
3/8” diameter copper tubing coiled so it will fit into the brew pot, with half of a
garden hose clamped onto each end. This is lowered into the wort before the end
of the boil to sanitize the device. Cold tap water is then run through it, which will
usually chill the wort in under half an hour. More complex counterflow chillers
work faster, but are more difficult to sanitize and use.
At this point a hydrometer is used to check the wort gravity, which should be
cooled to the temperature specified on the instrument. Since density is dependent
on temperature, hydrometers are calibrated to a particular temperature, usually 68°
F (20° C). Professional models often have a thermometer and a correction scale
built into them.
Once cooled to 80° F (26.5° C) or below, stir the wort briskly in a circular motion
with the racking cane (sanitize it first), which will cause much of the hops and
trub (coagulated protein) to pile up in the middle. Allow things to settle and then
attach the sanitized racking cane to the hose, with its little clip clamped just down
from where the hose joins the cane, but in the “open” position. The potscrubber
should be fit over the end of the cane, and if needed, clamped with a small, all-
stainless hose clamp. Fill the hose and cane with water, clip the clamp, then insert
the cane into the wort toward the outside edge of the kettle, avoiding the pile of
trub, and the other end into the fermenter, which has been placed at a lower level
than the kettle. Unclip the clamp, and wort will flow. You can now pitch the yeast
into the fermenter.
Once full, put the lid on (if you’re using a plastic tub), then add the sanitized lock
and stopper. I like to fill the locks with cheap vodka, as it will kill most anything
that should get in there, but will not harm the yeast as bleach water will. Wort that
is warmer than the surrounding air will shrink as it cools, sucking some of the
lock liquid into the fermenter, so look the next day to see if it needs topping up.
Now comes either the easy part or the hard part, depending on your personality—
waiting for the yeast to do its business. With fresh yeast, you should expect some
activity within 24 hours, which will be indicated by a thin film of yeast on top,
and some activity in the fermentation lock indicating that there is escaping CO
2
gas. Within a couple of days the activity should be quite dramatic, with foam as
much as 6 inches thick on top, and a rapid bubbling of the lock. The quantity of
yeast you pitch and the fermentation temperature will determine the vigor of this
activity.
After about two weeks, the yeast will slow down and the surface will begin to
clear. When the fermentation lock stops bubbling, it’s time to bottle or keg. See
the instructions on
for this. Congratulations, you’re a brewer!
Scene from John Taylor’s Brewery, Albany, NY 1868
Acres of wood!
Cleaners & Sanitizers
Percarbonate Cleaners
(PBW, B-Brite, One-Step) These safe and effective cleaners are a good alternative to
caustic, and may be used in cold water. Use one tbsp per gallon (or according to
manufacturer’s directions).
Caustic Soda (Lye/NaOH)
Widely used brewery cleaner in industry. Effective against protein and other stubborn
dirt. Usually needs to be followed by an acid rinse. Very corrosive to copper,
aluminum an other metals. Very harmful to skin and eyes. Use carefully.
Chlorine
A very effective sanitizer in the form of household bleach or proprietary formulations.
Liquid bleach should be used at the rate of 1 tbsp per gallon. Rinse vessels thoroughly
after sanitizing. Highly corrosive to stainless steel—do not soak!
Iodophor
Sanitizer sometimes recommended for no-rinse applications. 1 tbsp per 5 gallons.
May be corrosive to stainless steel under some conditions. Some people are allergic to
it.
Phosphoric Acid
Available as a proprietary dairy rinse. Effective at removing beerstone. A good final
rinse for copper.
Five Star Star San
An effective no-rinse acid sanitizer formulated for the brewing industry.
WARNING: Many of these materials are corrosive and harmful to the skin and
eyes. Always use gloves, goggles and an apron when dealing with them. Always
follow the manufacturer’s directions for use, and keep all of them out of reach of
children.
HOW NOT TO SCREW IT UP
Better beer is something most homebrewers seek. With the right approach and a
little help, your first beers should taste pretty good, with some room for improvement.
Like anything worth doing well, there are a million little details that all add up to a
better outcome. Here are a few of the issues—no, let’s call them opportunities—you
might want to tackle.
Freshness does make a difference with malt extract syrups Stale extract will make
beer that smells of ballpoint pen ink. Domestic extracts are usually fresher than
imports, but not always. The shop staff will know—or should. Dry extract stays fresh
indefinitely as long as it’s kept dry and, unlike syrups, you can use as much or as little
from a package as you like. Many shops carry drums of liquid extract, which usually
don’t sit around long enough to get stale.
Canned kits are not always a great solution If you want to try one, the proper way
to use it is this: hold the can firmly in one hand, and with the other, pull off the plastic
lid and grab the packet of yeast inside between thumb and forefinger. Toss it in the
trash. Second, peel the paper label from the can and chuck it in the trash bin, having
first noted whether the extract is hopped or unhopped, pale or dark. You are now
holding a usable can of raw material.
Chill As previously noted, getting your wort cooled quickly is critical to a clean
tasting beer. A long waiting time at elevated temperatures makes the wort vulnerable
to infection by microbes that are waiting to pounce. DMS can reach problematic
levels if the wort is allowed to linger while warm. How quick is quick enough?
There’s no precise answer, but half an hour is probably a good target. There are
several methods described on p. 32.
Put the effort into sanitation Clean, well-sanitized equipment is essential for making
flawless beer. Equally important (but often neglected) is getting the sanitizer
thoroughly rinsed off.
You will never have too much yeast Starting your fermentation with plenty of yeast
minimizes the chance that bad bugs will take over and produce off-flavors. Liquid
yeasts have brewery pedigrees and come in many more varieties, and are now suitable
for pitching right from the package, although the “smack-pack” type does require a
few days to get itself ready for your brew. If you are using dry yeast, use two or even
three packets per 5-gallon batch, and be sure to ask the shop owner which brand is
giving the best results. Dry yeast should be rehydrated in hot (110° F or 43.5° C)
water before adding to your beer.
Repitch There is no easier way to assure a quality fermentation than to repitch a clean
layer of yeast from a just-finished brew. I usually repitch the yeast from a secondary
of a beer being transferred to a keg on brew day. You can repitch from a primary, but
I recommend pouring the slurry into a tall beaker and allowing it to settle for a few
hours. The floaters and sinkers should be discarded; use the creamy, smooth layer in
the middle, as this contains the most viable yeast and least amount of bad-tasting crud.
Aerate that wort Loading your chilled wort up with oxygen allows the yeast to get
going much more quickly, reducing the chances of infection while allowing you to
drink your beer much sooner. For various ways to accomplish this, see p. 67.
Go draft A draft system removes one of the most onerous chores from the brewing
process, bottling. See p. 68.
Forget high-alpha hops If you’re an international mega-brewer playing the price
game on millions of barrels of beer a year, you can ignore this advice. But your beer
will taste better with low-alpha hops. You will definitely get more hop flavor and
aroma by using 4 ounces of Saaz instead of 1 ounce of Chinook, as the aromatic oils
do not necessarily scale up along with the alpha acids in the high-alpha hops. And
they don’t call them “noble” hops for nothing; they do taste great.
Taste critically Scrutinize your own beers, other homebrews, and commercial beers.
Don’t forget to taste the malts and smell the hops—both as raw ingredients and in
finished beers. Try and pin down what you like. You don’t have to write it down, but
for some people it helps.
Get competitive Enter a homebrew competition. There’s a chance for glory, but more
importantly, you’ll get feedback from experienced judges including an objective
description, a listing of flaws, and how the beer fits into the category in which it’s
entered. See p. 284 for more on competitions.
Keep records There are a lot of variables, and it’s just about impossible to recall all
of them by the time the beer’s ready. If you brew a killer batch, you want to be able to
repeat it, or even improve it. You can use the sheet on [p. 71], make your own, or do it
in a spreadsheet or PDA.
Don’t rush it While your beer may be drinkable in a month or so, the general rule is
“The homebrew is ready when you’ve drunk the last bottle.” Another month or two
may make a significant improvement. Stay ahead of demand and start a second batch
before your first is finished. You’ll thank yourself later.
Beer loves company Brew with a friend, a sweetheart, or a spouse. It lightens the
load and improves the enjoyment of the finished product. There’s much more on
group activities in Chapter 19.
Just keep brewing There’s no substitute for a hands-on approach. Strive to make
every beer better than the last, and it probably will be.
Hierarchy of Homebrew Complication
Approach
Supplies You Will Buy
Technique/Equipment
Extract Kit
The kit: a can of hopped
extract that comes with a
package of yeast.
Simple: mix and ferment. Little or no boil.
Basic equipment kit does the job. A six-year-
old could do this.
Extract
Components
A can of extract, some
hops and yeast—each of
your own choosing.
Easy, but may include a full-length boil (60-
90 minutes). Chiller recommended. Limited
aroma and flavor possibilities.
Extract +
grain
Extract, hops, grains, and
yeast.
Elementary: steep grains in hot water, remove
and boil with hops. Grain bag and maybe a
bigger pot needed.
Partial Mash
Same as above, but with
more grain.
Transitional: volume and temperature control,
sparging technique, etc. A grain bag will do,
but purpose-built mash equipment starts to
look good.
All-Grain
No extract, just grain
Craftsmanship: a full mashing rig and careful
Brewing(about 10 pounds for a 5
gallon batch), plus all the
hops you’ll need and some
yeast.
technique required for ideal results, but most
master it in just a few batches.
THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS: EXTRACT PLUS MINI-
MASH
This is the next big step beyond the bag of crystal malt added to the boil. The idea
is to do a small-scale mash, which in every other respect is just like a full mash. The
benefit is that because you’re actually doing starch conversion, a mini-mash allows
you to use a wider range of malt types instead of being restricted to crystal and roasted
malts. Using this method, you can brew credible versions of most of the beers in this
book.
The ideal setup is a 1- or 2-gallon picnic cooler jug. A 1-gallon cooler will hold a
little over 4 pounds of grain, enough for most recipes. It also has the advantage of
being small enough to accept one of those stainless steel expanding vegetable steamer
inserts, which makes a perfect filter screen. For larger-sized coolers, you can build or
buy a screen or manifold.
The procedure is the same as a normal infusion mash. Mix 1 quart of hot (165° F
or 74° C) water per pound of grain, stir well, then take its temperature. If it’s lower
than the target specified in the recipe, add hot water until you hit the right
temperature. Let this sit for forty-five minutes to an hour, then start to drain. The first
wort will likely have some suspended solids in it, so put this back on top of the mash.
When the wort runs clear, start adding it to your brew kettle. Gradually add another
gallon of water to the grains, this time at 180° F (82° C), which will sparge out the
remaining sugars. All this wort goes into your kettle, and the extract gets mixed in.
If, like most extract brewers, you’re boiling only 3 gallons for a 5-gallon batch,
you will need to slightly boost the hop quantities. In a smaller volume, the wort will
be at a higher gravity in the boil, which means lower hop utilization rates. Add 20
percent more hops than the recipe specifies.
Converting All-Grain Recipes to Extract + Mini-Mash
Radical Brewing lists extract alternatives to all-grain recipes when practical, but
you will at some time or place run into an all-grain recipe you’d like to brew with
extracts. Although mashing gives you the most control over the flavor of your
brews, the use of a high-quality malt extract combined with a mini-mash of the
specialty grains specified in the recipe will result in a beer that will be very hard
to tell apart from its full-mash cousin.
To convert a recipe, simply use pale malt extract instead of the pale or Pils malt
specified in the recipe, using the following percentages:
Product replacing pale malt
Reduce quantity to:
Liquid malt extract
85 percent of recipe
Dry extract replacing pale malt
65 percent of recipe
If the recipe calls for a large proportion of Munich or mild malt, substitute amber
dry malt instead of pale. Then do a mini-mash with the specialty grains in the
recipe. If you wish to use dry malt extract instead of liquid, use 20 percent less
than the amount of malt in the grain recipe. Munich, Vienna, mild, biscuit, and
aromatic malts all contain enough enzymes to convert themselves, while darker
malts do not, although really dark malts like black patent may be used without
converting. If the specialty grains in the recipe are mostly of the medium dark
variety—amber or brown, for example—it may be desirable to add a pound of Pils
malt to help with converting the starch. Crystal malt is preconverted, so it needs
no mashing.
If the recipe you’re converting calls for a large amount of Munich malt, you may
want to substitute 1 pound of pale crystal plus 2.25 pounds (1 kilogram) of dry
malt extract for every 5 pounds of Munich malt, which will come close to the
flavor and color.
MASHING MADE EASY
If you’ve even halfway followed these instructions, your beer’s pretty good—at
least your deadbeat pals are sucking them down like there’s no tomorrow. You’ve got
a few batches under your belt, literally. Life is good.
But there are nagging thoughts. That the beers could be even better, fresher-
tasting, more complex. That you’d like to really get in control of your recipes, to
know exactly what you’re putting in your beer. That you’d really like to brew the way
the big boys do. But something is holding you back...
It’s that M-word: Mashing. The beast in the homebrew closet. A snarling tangle
of chemistry, hoses, uncertainty, and chances for things to go terribly wrong.
Well, a monster can be a pussycat if you just scratch its ears the right way.
I won’t kid you and say that mashing doesn’t take longer and require a bit more
equipment, but it isn’t all that complicated. By using adjunct grains in your extract
beers, you’re sort of doing it already. Think of it as just scaling up.
Mashing is the heart and soul of the brewing process. Just to review, here are the
basics: malted grain is crushed and mixed with hot water to arrive at a mash at about
150° F (65.5° C). At this temperature, enzymes that have been activated during the
malting process spring into action and snip the long starch molecules into smaller
ones composed of variably fermentable sugars. At higher temperatures (150 to 160° F
or 65.5 to 71° C), the wort produced is less fermentable; at lower temperatures (140 to
150° F or 60 to 65.5° C) it’s more fermentable. There are lots of complicated
subtleties, but the fact is that if you get within 10 degrees of 150° F (65.5° C) and hold
it for a hour, you’ll get a liquid that will ferment into a perfectly lovely beer, without
any of the tangy, stale, thin flavors the average canned malt extract delivers.
Lazy brewers should take note that the longest portion of mashing is felicitously
called a “rest,” during which you can do likewise, or get lunch, or clean bottles, or
anything but fuss with the mash, as it really doesn’t need your help for this, thank you
very much.
Picnic Cooler Mash Tun
Perhaps the most common mash tun used by all-grain brewers, this is made by adding a
manifold of dry-fit copper plumbing pipe to drain the wort. The straight sections of pipe
have been cut halfway through with a hacksaw (space cuts about 1/4” apart) to provide
drainage.
A 5- or 10-gallon circular beverage cooler may also be used as a mash-tunn,
substituting a false bottom for the copper manifold.
You will need two things you may not have: a reasonably accurate thermometer
and a modified cooler to mash in. The newer type of cooking thermometer/timer with
the probe on a cable is perfect, and you can justify its purchase as a cooking device as
well. Even radio-linked remote versions are available.
If you have a large plastic cooler, you simply need to add a sort of drainage
manifold to it, which most brewers do by dry-fitting copper plumbing pipe into a
trident-shaped thingy that roughly fits the bottom of the cooler, the long tubing pieces
being cut halfway through their diameter with a series of hacksaw cuts spaced about
an inch apart to provide drainage. The narrow end of the trident is force-fit into the
cooler’s drain spigot, with the aid of a short piece of plastic tubing if needed. You
could drive yourself nuts trying to figure out the best way to do this, but there’s
almost no way to totally screw it up.
If you have a couple of clean 5-gallon buckets lying around, they’ll make a fine
mash tun as well. Add a spigot or a piece of hose with a pinch clip at the bottom of the
one that will become the bottom vessel. Then carve out the bottom of the top bucket
to resemble a three-armed peace sign, and attach a piece of bronze window-screen to
the inside by stitching it on with a piece of the wire you pulled off the edge of the
screen, using small drilled holes in the plastic to stitch into. If you’re really nuts, get a
1/8” drill and make a zillion holes, but be warned that by the third hour this gets really
boring—unless you have much better drugs than I have access to. If you’re planning
on making stronger beers with this method, be aware that the 5-gallon size of this unit
may be a bit small for your purposes, so you may want to go down to the local
restaurant supply store and get something in the 7- to 10-gallon (26- to 38-liter) range.
There are also inexpensive, commercially available false bottoms designed to work in
buckets or round coolers.
If you need more specific directions on building your mash tun, get on the Web
and poke around; there are a million different ways to solve this problem. There are
also companies that sell parts and kits to do this. But do remember: simple works just
fine.
The conventional wisdom is that in order to do a mashed beer, you must sparge
(rinse the sugars out of the spent grain) and collect more than the full volume of your
finished beer, then boil it down to the final amount. This is the most efficient, but not
necessarily the laziest, way to do it, which is to waste some malt by collecting and
boiling a concentrated wort—say 3 gallons—then diluting it with cold water at the
end of the boil.
This does three things:
1. Speeds up the brew by eliminating the time-consuming sparging process, which
can be like water torture for some impatient brewers.
2. Lets you use a smaller pot on a normal stove.
3. Speeds the chilling process, so a wort chiller is not absolutely necessary.
Like I said, this wastes a bit of malt, so recipes have to be calculated differently.
If you collect and boil just 3 gallons instead of 6 and then dilute, you will need to use
about 1.4 times as much malt as a particular recipe calls for. Multiply the hop amounts
by 1.1 to make up for the lower utilization you’ll get with the smaller brew kettle; if
you’re boiling the full 5 gallons use the hop quantities as specified. Your mileage may
vary, so after you do one or two of these you may find you need to adjust the
conversion formula a bit. Because this is not the mainstream technique, the recipes in
this book are not formulated for this “no-sparge” technique.
The procedure described here has been much discussed on the homebrew forums
of late, and many advocates also feel it makes beer with a cleaner, purer taste, as it
leaves behind potentially husky, tannic flavors that can harm a delicate beer if over-
sparged.
THE BASIC INFUSION MASH
In contrast to the “no-sparge” method, normal mashing procedures call for a hot
water rinse—called a sparge—of the grain to ensure that most of the fermentable
sugars end up in the beer and not on the compost pile. This usually adds about an hour
to the process, which most brewers feel is a worthwhile tradeoff for the 35- to 45-
percent increase in efficiency over the no-sparge method.
Up to the point where you start running off the wort, the two procedures are
exactly the same. But instead of simply draining the grain bed dry, hot water at
approximately 175° F (79.5° C) is gently ladled or sprinkled onto the surface until the
full volume of the beer batch, plus a gallon or so which will be lost in the boil, is
collected. During this time it is important to keep the goods from falling below 145° F
(63° C), at which point starches will start to gel, making runoff difficult. It is also
important not to let the water level fall below the top of the grain bed. You get better
runoff when the grain is allowed to float, and removing the water allows the grain to
compact under its own weight, slowing runoff. You can ignore this at the very end, as
runoff goes quicker when most of the soluble materials have been rinsed out.
MASHING MADE DIFFICULT
An infusion mash will get you through most of the kinds of beer you would want
to brew, but there are times when a more complex mashing procedure might be called
for:
When using large amounts (25 percent or more) of unmalted grain in a recipe.
When attempting to brew certain styles, such as German dark lagers, in the most
completely authentic manner, which would be a single, double, or triple decoction
mash.
When dealing with less modified malts that require more intensive mashing
methods.
In the first case, a procedure called an adjunct or cereal mash is used. This is the
technique used by brewers of American style lagers, and was created to deal with the
large amounts of unmalted rice or corn used in these beers. The technique also works
very well for Belgian styles such as witbier that use lots of unmalted wheat.
The procedure involves making two separate mashes. One mash with unmalted
grain and a small amount of malt is raised through a series of temperature rests and
then boiled for a few minutes. Meanwhile a malt mash is underway and sitting at
protein rest temperature, 122° F (50° C). Then the boiled adjunct grains are added to
the malt mash, which brings the whole thing up to starch conversion temperature,
about 150° F (65.5° C) (or whatever the recipe calls for). Details are given in
connection with Belgian Witbier on p. 205.
Decoction mashes were traditional for centuries in Germany. In a decoction, a
portion—25 to 35 percent—of the mash is removed and stepped up through a series of
rests, and then briefly boiled before being mixed back into the rest of the mash, which
raises its temperature. They allow mashing to be conducted in wooden vessels and
still have several different temperature steps. The boiling of the grains softens the hard
ends of undermodified malt, increasing efficiency, and adds a certain caramelly
quality to the finished beer.
Decoctions are always fussy affairs, and can
take up to six hours. With modern well-modified
malt, they are not needed for efficiency’s sake, and
there are other ways to do a step mash. But the
extra caramelly qualities a decoction can add may
be worth the effort in subtle malt showcases such as
a Munich dunkel or a Czech Pilsener. More detail
on decoction mashing can be found in Chapter 8.
Eleven Ways to Avoid a Stuck Sparge
I just about quit homebrewing in disgust more than once, usually about four hours
into a miserable sparging experience, accompanied by considerable verbal
fireworks. There’s nothing worse than being ready to move on and being
subjected to the water torture of a sluggish drip, drip, drip. It drove me nuts. As a
brewer of exotic beers, I was asking for it by using unmalted and huskless grains,
but I knew there had to be a better way.
So I began a quest involving both technique and equipment. It took a while, but I
finally got it licked, and now sparging is one of the most enjoyably satisfying
parts of the process. Here’s some of what I learned along the way. You don’t
necessarily need to do all of these to have a pleasant sparge, but if you’re having
problems, start looking at these items, implementing what you can until things
become bearable. Now if only I could make cleanup this easy!
1. Be sure your grain is correctly ground. The idea is to crush the malty center
of the kernels evenly into pinhead-sized particles, while keeping the husks as
intact as possible for good filtering action. This always involves a tradeoff, but a
reasonable balance can be achieved. I find roller mills are best. There are
magicians who can coax well-milled malt from a Corona-style mill, but they are
rare. Anything with a slicing or shearing action should be avoided.
The roller settings are critical, and should be fine-tuned with every change of
grain. Generally roller mills don’t do such a great job with huskless grains as
wheat, which should be ground very finely. For adjunct grains, I use an old
grocery-store coffee mill that works brilliantly for this.
2. Don’t make the bed too deep. Four inches will give you all the filtering action
you need. More than 8 or so and you’re asking for trouble. When I redid my lauter
tun, I made it half again as wide as my brew kettle so as to have the proper surface
area; this size difference occurs in commercial breweries as well. I know you have
to load it up to make that juicy barley wine or Abbey-style quadrupel, but why
don’t you do as the Belgians do and use a tasty sugar for the last 10 to 20 percent
of the gravity? A good unrefined sugar can add a caramelly twist while enhancing
drinkability.
3. Use a mash-out rest after conversion. Most commercial techniques raise the
goods to 170° F (77° C) or thereabouts to stop enzyme activity, and importantly,
to keep any remaining starch or glucans liquified. See Number 4.
4. Keep the temperature up. If you let the goods drop below 145° F (63° C) or
so, they’ll begin to gel, with unpleasant consequences. Insulation is of obvious
benefit. Keeping your sparge water at 170 to 180° F (77 to 82° C) is critical.
5. Start your runoff slowly. At the beginning, get just a trickle going, then
slowly increase. Having the wort flowing at a high rate before the filter bed is set
creates a considerable vacuum that can compact the bed into a bricklike
substance.
6. Don’t let the bed drain dry. A free-flowing filter bed is dependent on the
grains being suspended (floating) in the sparge water. Remove this liquid support
and the bed collapses from its own weight. If this happens mid-sparge, flood the
goods to get them floating, stir to unclump, then reset the sparge as if you were
just starting.
7. Add a vent to the bottom of your lauter screen. This involves running a tube
just barely through to the underside of the lauter screen to a level well above the
top of the goods, and fitting the top end with a clip, plug, or valve. Then, if you
experience the kind of excessive vacuum described in Number 5, you can open
the tube and release the vacuum.
8. Make a vacuum break into the grant. Don’t have the runoff tube submerged
in the receiving vessel, as the water pressure above the bottom of the tube will
prevent liquid from draining freely. My solution is to use a “T” fitting on my drain
hose, positioned above the highest possible liquid level in the receiving vessel,
with the top leg going up to the lauter tun, the bottom leg with a stub of tubing to
determine the height of it—to make it sure it clears the liquid—and with the side
leg of the T left open to act as the vacuum break.
9. Add a vacuum gauge (manometer) to the underside of the lauter screen.
This is a geeky one, I admit, but it helped the lesson of Number 5 really sink in for
me. They’re used in commercial-scale breweries for the same purpose. You can
watch the thing as you start the runoff, and if you start to pull a vacuum, the
needle starts to swing. At this point you can slow the flow and release the pressure
to bring things back to normal. I used a pressure gauge from a CPR training
dummy. It was set to register low positive pressure, but I took it apart and bent
some things so it reads very slight vacuums now. I’m not sure what sort of
pressure scale you’re looking for, probably “inches of water.” Having a calibrated
scale is unimportant; you just want to make sure the needle moves visibly with the
kind of suction required to drink soda—not a milkshake—through a straw.
To install, run a small tube to just below the bottom of the lauter screen. Run it up
to the top of the lauter tun and connect it to a T fitting. Connect the gauge to one
leg, and a valve connected to the atmosphere on the other leg, which can then be
used to vent the space below the screen. See Number 7.
10. When all else fails, try rice hulls. Actually, they are a cheap and easy fix for
whatever ails your sparge, although they’re a particular godsend to the brewing of
beers with wheat, rye, oats, or other gooey adjuncts. Use 0.5 to 2 pounds per 5-
gallon batch, depending on quantity and stickiness of the adjuncts. This emulates
traditional practice with wheat beers, for example, in which husks were reserved
after threshing to be added to the mash for the purpose described here.
11. Underlet. Sometimes adding sparge water from underneath the false bottom
can refloat the mash, making further sparging a little easier.
Chapter 4
B
ASIC
I
NGREDIENTS
M
alt, water, hops, yeast
. Although many other ingredients can be used
in beer, these four do the heavy lifting. Quality, of course, is important, but it’s not a
simple matter. Each of these ingredients has many properties important in brewing.
Some of these qualities are apparent, and can be smelled or tasted. Others are more
chemical in nature, and require an understanding of the underlying science in order to
select and use them to best advantage.
MALT, GLORIOUS MALT
Malt is barley that has been sprouted and dried. Other grains such as wheat, oats,
and rye may be malted, but barley is the workhorse of the brewhouse. The malting
process tricks the seed into sprouting, during which it readies its starchy reserves to
fuel the expected new growth. Enzymes attack the wall of the little sacs holding the
starch, while other enzymes are unfolded and pumped up, ready to disassemble the
starches into sugars the new shoot can assimilate. The maltster takes it right to the
brink, to where the little sprout is about to pop from beneath its protective husk, and
then, wham! Germinatus interruptus. It all comes to a stop as the malt hits the kiln,
driving off the water and ending the plant’s chance at a life. The heat and desiccation
preserve all this wonderful chemistry in a suspended state so that when the brewer
adds water, it’s all there ready and waiting to make beer.
The Flavor of Malt Color The kilning may be done with just enough heat to dry out
the malt, and can even be accomplished with the sun or in the rafters of a dry barn for
that matter. But most modern malt is kilned with sufficient heat to develop at least a
little color. Today most maltsters offer a kaleidoscopic range of malt colors and
flavors, making possible an infinite variety of beers. This embarrassment of riches
brings certain problems—how best to mix and match to achieve one’s goals?
Understanding the chemistry of malt flavor and color certainly helps to get a
handle on this. Barley is nearly flavorless in its raw state— think beef barley soup
without the beef, onions, vegetables, and seasonings. Malting develops a few flavor
chemicals, but on the whole, air-dried malt is a pretty bland product. Just about all of
the flavors we associate with malt—bready, malty, nutty, toasty, roasty, and all the
rest—are the result of chemical reactions that occur during kilning.
Understanding this requires entering a deep thicket of chemistry known as the
Maillard reaction, also called non-enzymatic browning. This is the reaction
responsible for caramel, bread crusts, roux, meat browning, and many other very
familiar and heartwarming edibles. It’s also what makes frozen orange juice taste
different than fresh, and what gives that stale can of malt extract its thin, ballpoint-pen
aroma. A rough outline is shown here to give you some idea of the complexity of the
actual chemistry. Don’t be afraid.
Maillard Chemistry for Beginners
A simplified chart on Maillard chemistry gives you some idea of the complexity of the
science. Some of this is still being argued over. And you thought it was just a beer!
Maillard Chemistry for Experts
This chart shows what you really need to know.
Malt Color by the Numbers
This shows the appearance and numerical values for many common malt types. Some
of the numbers have been simplified. In reality, each malt type exists as a range of color
rather than a single number.
Although, as you can see, the specifics are hideously complex and still
incompletely understood by science, the essence of it—the part that sheds light on
brewing—is remarkably easy to grasp.
If you take any sort of sugar, combine it with nitrogen-bearing protein debris and
add heat, things will start to happen. After a long slalom of fancy chemistry, two
classes of end products emerge. First are melanoidins—large, highly colored
polymeric molecules with no perceptible flavor or aroma. The structure of these, as
much as it is known, is varied and complex, and honestly not all that important. Some
display more reddish tints in a beer; others are more yellowish.
The aromatic chemicals are much more knowable. They consist of a large group
of small, ring-shaped molecules typically containing nitrogen, sulfur, or oxygen,
giving us the familiar range of aromas from the lightest maltiness to the deepest roast.
These are extremely potent aroma chemicals, some with thresholds as low as .002
parts per billion. Without them, beer would be vastly different.
The key fact to know is that every combination of time, temperature, pH,
concentration, sugar, and nitrogenous compound will create a different set of flavor
chemicals. This creates the huge range of different flavors we can taste in malt and
beer.
All of this Maillard chemistry points out the importance of considering much
more than simply color when working out a grain bill. Identical-looking worts may
have very different flavor and aroma profiles, and in most beer styles the particular
nature of this key malt flavor is crucial to fitting into the style. You can make a beer
that looks like a Märzen from Pils malt and a pinch of black, but it will in no way taste
the part.
Malt Types for Brewing
COUNTRY
lb/5 gal
kg/20 liter
EBC
°L
GRAIN TYPE &Extract ExtractColorColorCOMMENTS & DESCRIPTION
PILSENER
MALT
(Two-row)
Europe, Britain
1.0071
1.73 °P
2-3.5
1.0-2.0
Pale straw color. The base for most pale lagers. High
diastatic power allows mashing with up to 40 percent
grain adjuncts. Traditionally decoction mashed; modern
versions well-modified—OK for infusion mashing.
LAGER MALT
(Two-row)
1.0070
1.71 °P
2.5-3.5
1.4-2.0
Best mashed with decoction or step mash, and a 116-
131°F/47-55°C protein rest may help avoid chill-haze in
United Statespaler beers. High diastatic power allows mashing with
up to 35 percent grain adjuncts.
(Six-row)
North America
LAGER MALT1.0068 1.66 °P
2.5-3.8
1.4-2,2
Very high diastatic power. Well suited to the co-
mashing of rice or corn adjuncts, up to 60 percent.
Inferior in flavor to two-row; may impart husky flavors.
Decoction or step-mash with protein rest used to avoid
chill-haze.
MALT
England, Belgium
PALE ALE1.0073 1.78 °P
4.5-8
2.5-3.8
Slight nutty flavor; brews a pale amber beer. Low % N
makes protein rest unnecessary. Not well-suited to the
co-mashing of adjuncts. Infusion mash is traditional.
Europe, North
America
VIENNA MALT1.0071 1.73 °P
5-8
3-4
Adds malty caramelly richness and sweet maltiness,
along with pale amber color. Enzyme content is low, but
sufficient for self-conversion.
MALT
England
MILD ALE1.0070 1.71 °P
10-20
4.3-8
Darker color, sweeter, nuttier taste than pale ale malt.
Low diastatic power; poorly suited to the co-mashing of
grain adjuncts. Protein rest unnecessary.
Europe, North
America
MUNICH MALT1.0070 1.71 °P
12-15
17-25
5-7
8-12
Imparts malt aroma and gentle toasty taste, and amber
color. Roasted moist for rich aroma. Gives beer a
reddish color, in quantity. Not enough enzymes for
adjuncts, but will convert itself. Some supplier offer two
colors.
MALT
AROMATIC1.0070 1.71 °P
55-80
17-26
A darker Munich type. Moist-roasted. Extremely full,
rich flavor and aroma. Some (Belgian) versions called
Belgium, Germany“Aromatic” are really Munich type. Weyermann’s
version called “Melanoidin.” Should convert itself.
MALT
England, Belgium,
U.S.
AMBER/BISCUIT 1.0066 1.61 °P
40-80
20-30Toasty/nutty flavor, without the strong aroma of Munich
malts. Roast pale ale malt at 200° F for 15-20 minutes,
then raise to 250°-300° F for a few more minutes.
Briess’ version called “Victory.” Should convert itself.
England
BROWN MALT1.0066 1.61 °P
110-170
50-70Traditionally made by rapidly heating pale ale malt to
350° F over an oak fire, and held for 2 hours or until a
rich brown color is reached. An old-fashioned malt, it
was the dominant malt in porter until 1750 or so. Very
toasty. Great for brown ales. May not convert itself.
CHOCOLATE
MALT
England
PALE1.0066 1.61 °P
400
500
150-188
Paler version of chocolate. Less harsh, but still loads of
coffee-like roasted character. Best used in small
quantities (≤ 1 lb/5 gal). Will not convert itself. Pale
shades of German röstmalz are very similar in character.
MALT
England, Europe,
North America
CHOCOLATE1.0061 1.49 °P
750
1100
300-500
Made by roasting pale ale malt until a deep chocolate
color is reached. Sometimes harsh; black patent malt is
darker, but often smoother tasting.
(Carafa®, etc)
Germany
RÖSTMALZ1.0061 1.49 °P
1000
1200
375-450
German interpretation of chocolate malt. Available in
several colors (medium shade described here), as well as
de-husked for smoother flavor. Used to adjust color and
add a deep roastiness to lagers and other brews.
(PATENT) MALT
England, Europe,
North America
BLACK1.0061 1.49 °P
1200
1500
500-600
The darkest, most pungent and bitter of all malts. Made
by roasting pale malt at a high temperature until nearly
black, but not burned. Some versions are debitterized for
smoothness, and are preferable for most brews.
ROASTED
BARLEY
England, U.S.
BLACK1.0061 1.49 °P
1300
1600
550-650
Similar to black malt, but barley is unmalted. Has drier,
less rich character. Very dark color. Classic in Irish
stouts.
MALT (CARA-
PILS
®
)
DEXTRINE1.0067 1.63 °P
3-5
8-20
1.7-3.4
4-8
Nearly colorless crystal malt type used as a body builder
in pale lagers such as Pilseners. Improves the head, too.
Not a great deal of flavor. Two color ranges exist.
CRYSTAL MALT
All varieties are made by heating undried malt to mash
temperatures and allowing to convert before raising to
roasting temperatures. When cooled, sugars harden and
give it a crystalline texture. May be made from two- or
six-row barley. Contains high proportion of unfer-
mentable dextrins. There are a wide variety of crystal
malts, each with a unique flavor profile—malts of similar
color may have very different flavors. Very useful in
adding personality to beer. High-intensity aromas make
Pale1.0066 1.61 °P
40-80
20-30
Medium1.0066 1.61 °P
90-150
40-60
Dark1.0066 1.61 °P
160-250
65-90
Extra Dark 1.0057 1.39 °P
300-400
110-160
them especially useful additions to extract beers.
To put a further point on it, even similarly colored malts may have very different
flavor and aroma qualities. Biscuit or amber malt (25° SRM) is kilned dry for a sharp
toasty or nutty aroma that is perfect for brown ales or ESBs. The malt sometimes
known as aromatic or melanoidin is just a little paler, at roughly 20° SRM, but is
much maltier, rounder, and richer—really more of a dark Munich malt, a result of
being roasted with a high level of moisture.
The differences are dramatically demonstrated in crystal malts. Each maltster
does things a little differently, which is reflected in the final products. As a fun and
easy club event, hold a crystal malt tasting. Get as many different makes of crystal as
you can round up, group them by color, and start tasting. You will be amazed by the
variety, even among identically colored ones. Every good brewer I know constantly
tastes the ingredients. Make this a part of your brewing habits.
A traditional Kentish Oast, or hop drying kiln.
Sign on a Fin-du-Siecle building in London. Hop traders are called “Hop Factors” in
England.
MORE HOPS!
Ah, hops. Their resiny bitterness and spicy, floral, or herbal aromas are a large
part of what draws many of us into the hobby. American industrial beers use hops at
or below the threshold, leaving many of us with a hunger for the flavor of those small,
green cones. Fortunately, it is easily satisfied in our own brews.
Hops are the green, fluffy, cone-shaped catkins (technically strobiles) of the
climbing vine Humulus lupulus, the only sibling of marijuana in the Cannabaceae
family. Hops are more distantly related to nettles, elms, mulberries, and others. The
vines regrow every year from fleshy underground runners called rhizomes, shooting
up to twenty feet or more in height. Hops need a certain summer day-length to
produce cones and their cultivation is restricted to bands between 35° and 55°
latitudes, in both Northern and Southern Hemispheres. This is roughly from North
Carolina to Hudson Bay, or southern Spain to northern Germany. If you have soil,
sun, and something for them to climb on, they make a lovely ornamental plant as well
as a useful one (see Chapter 16).
Hops contain two groups of substances of primary interest to brewers. First are
thick tarry resins known as alpha and beta acids, which provide bitterness. Alpha acid
is the more important of the two bitter substances, and it plays the primary role in the
bittering of beer. Beta acids are present in smaller quantities, are less soluble in beer
than alpha acids, and generally come to the fore only when old hops are used in a
beer. Second is the wide range of aromatic oils that impart their magic to the nose of a
well-brewed beer. This mix of oils differs by variety, region, soil, and other variables.
Both components are subject to degradation by heat, oxygen, and time. Generally,
hops are kept chilled or even frozen to preserve their bittering power and aroma.
Hop resins have a preservative effect due to their
antibacterial action, which especially affects lactic acid
bacteria. This preservative ability led to the hop being the
dominant herb of beer. Prior to their widespread use, the only
other method of preserving beer was to make it massively strong, above 10 percent
alcohol or so, and even at that strength the preservation was not particularly effective.
This reduction of strength may have been one of the things that caused such resistance
to the introduction of hops. In England, even King Henry VIII got personally involved
and banned the pernicious weed from the royal ale brewhouse. But his grandfather
recognized the military value of a beer that would keep for months rather than days
and issued a ban on the badmouthing of the new hopped beer introduced by Flemish
immigrants. Hops have reigned supreme for more than five hundred years.
Hops also contain polyphenols (tannins) that combine with some of the excess
malt proteins and precipitate out of the wort during the boil (hot break) and at chilling
(cold break), removing large amounts of unwanted haze-forming materials and also
producing better foam characteristics.
Hops are dioecious, meaning there are distinct male and female plants, but the
cones are borne only by the females. Male plants are of no use for brewing, and if
allowed to pollinate the females, cones with seeds will be produced—adding nothing
to their brewing value. Males are sometimes used in proximity to females, since they
have the ability to increase cone production to some degree.
The shoes of the Hopfentreader, from the Hallertauer district
Before the advent of mechanical presses, hops used to be literally stomped into the
large cloth bags called “pockets.”
Hops are a somewhat tender plant, and are subject to a number of diseases and
pests, many of which are aggravated by damp climates. As a result, they tend to be
heavily sprayed.
At the end of the growing season, the plants are cut off at the base and brought to
a stationary picker, which strips off the cones and discards the rest. The cones are then
kiln-dried and stuffed tightly into large cloth bags called pockets in order to save
space and protect them from air, which degrades both bitterness and aroma. Hydraulic
presses are the norm now, but a century ago a person called a “hop treader” literally
stomped the hops into the pockets.
Some hops are processed into pellets. The cones are finely ground up and forced
through dies at high pressure, squirting out the other end as small green pellets that
look like rabbit food. These hop pellets stay fresh longer, but there is some concern
that the process may sap some aroma and introduce certain rough, green flavors
released by the rupturing of cell walls.
Further processing yields more concentrated material that is destined for larger
and larger breweries and that is of less and less interest to us. Supercritical CO
2
is
used as a solvent to separate all the oils and resins from the fibrous material. This may
be used as-is, or separated into bittering and aromatic components. The bitter fraction
may be purified and isomerized, making it soluble in beer without boiling. The
ultimate in hop processing results in fractionally distilled hop aroma components,
which are useful for taking to the ballpark and dumping in your yellow beer, but
precious little else.
There are really two main crops from an agribusiness viewpoint. High-alpha hops
are grown for their resin content—typically 9 to 15 percent alpha acid— and these
tend to be turned into non-varietal extract and are treated very much as a commodity
crop. Varietal aroma hops are a premium product valued for their delicate, refined
aromas. Many come from regions that have been famous for centuries—East Kent in
England; Hallertau, Spalt and Tettnang in Germany; and the town of Saaz in the
Bohemia region of the Czech Republic. Aroma hops generally have an alpha acid
content of 5 percent or less.
There are also certain varieties with intermediate alpha acid levels (6 to 9 percent)
and decent aromas, and these are known as dual use hops. Northern Brewer, Cascade,
and newer varieties such as Centennial and Mount Hood all have nice aromas and find
a useful place in the homebrew arsenal.
Hop Tokens from Saaz
Hop Varietal Aroma Character
Country
Archetype
Character
American
Cascade
Resiny, floral, citrus/grapefruit
Czech
Saaz
Clean, spicy, mellow
English
East Kent Goldings
Bright, green, softly spicy
German
Hallertau
Mellow, herbal, almost minty
This chart represents the four most typical hop varieties but is by no means complete. Many intermediate and atypical
varieties exist. New varieties are constantly being developed, so it’s a good idea to consult a resource like Hopunion for
current detailed information on hop varieties and their uses.
Hop Token, 1794
Hop pickers were often paid in tokens or scrip— good only at the company store.
Work is ongoing in all regions to develop new varieties. A lot of this effort is
centered around high-alpha hops, disease resistance, harvesting ease, or other
agricultural qualities. Some new aromatic varieties have come into cultivation,
especially in the American Northwest. One of the elusive goals in the United States
has been to develop a hop that will produce a true European noble hop character,
which is not the case when varieties such as Saaz and Hallertau are grown here.
Crystal, Liberty, Vanguard, and Mount Hood come pretty close to the Hallertau goal;
Ultra and Sterling have very nice, spicy Saaz qualities. Craft brewers in America have
been eager to try out new varieties such as Santiam, Ahtanum, and Amarillo in their
quest for unique personalities for their beers.
This varietal aroma is one of the most important tools you have to shape the
aroma profile of your beer. Hops all smell like hops, but each variety has its own
character. This is something you have to learn from your own personal experience.
Old hands in the hop industry know to grab a small handful, rub briskly between the
palms, open their hands slightly, thrust their noses into the gap, and sniff deeply,
getting a real snootful.
Hops are used by adding them to the wort as it boils. More than simply
dissolving, the heat causes a chemical change called isomerization, which allows the
formerly non-bitter, insoluble resins to become highly bitter and dissolve into the
wort. It takes up to ninety minutes for hops to release their full bitterness into the
boiling wort, but the process begins in just a few minutes. A vigorous boil enhances
the process. A simmer won’t cut it.
Hop Variety Characteristics
USEACID %STABILITY
VARIETYORIGIN BREWING ALPHASTORAGECOMMENTS & DESCRIPTION
ADMIRAL (RH 40)
England
Bittering
11.5-14.5
••Newer high-alpha type, a more potent
replacement for Target.
AHTANUM
U.S.
Dual
5.7-6.3
••Privately developed dual use hop; very similar
to Cascade.
AMARILLO
U.S.
Bittering
8-11
•High-alpha hop with similar floral/citrus
aromas to Cascade.
AURORA
Slovenia
Dual
7-9
•“Super Styrian,” Northern Brewer parentage.
Mild European flavor.
BRAMLING CROSS
England
Aroma
5-7
••Wild Manitoba/Golding cross. Blackcurrant,
lemony aroma.
BREWER’S GOLD
Germany,
China
Dual
5.5-8
—English/wild Canadian cross. Pungent English
character.
CASCADE
U.S.
Dual
4-6
—Unique American floral character, defines U.S.
Pale Ale style.
CENTENNIAL
U.S.
Dual
8-10
•••Similar to Cascade, but higher alpha. Formerly
called CFJ 90.
CHINOOK
U.S.
Dual
11-14
••High alpha with resiny grapefruit aroma.
Golding ancestry.
CLUSTER
U.S.
Dual
6-8
••••Original American hop. A certain sharpness
often called “cattiness.”
COLUMBUS
U.S.
Bittering
14-16
••Newer super high-alpha variety. Finding favor
with microbreweries.
CRYSTAL
U.S.
Aroma
3-3.5
—Newer variety with fine Hallertauer character.
Ultra clean!
FIRST GOLD
England
Dual
6.5-8.5
••••Dwarf hop with fine English Golding
character. WGV heritage.
FUGGLE
England,
U.S.
Dual
3.5-5.5
•Traditional hop for darker beers. Less refined
aroma than Goldings.
GALENA
U.S.
Bittering
10-14
••Brewer’s Gold ancestry. Pungent English
flavor.
GOLDING
U.S.,
Canada
Aroma
4-6
•••U.S.-grown version of the English classic.
Mild, pleasant flavor.
HALLERTAUER
MITTELFRÜH
Germany
Aroma
4-5
•Original noble aroma hop. Being replaced with
newer varieties.
HALLERTAUER
TRADITION
Germany
Aroma
4-5.8
••••Disease-resistant, more aromatic replacement
for Hallertauer.
HALLERTAUER
MAGNUM
Germany
Bittering
10-12.6
••••High-alpha variety with some German taste
characteristics.
HERALD
England
Bittering
11-13
••••New high-alpha dwarf with acceptable flavor.
Sister of Pioneer.
HERSBRUCKER
Germany,
U.S.
Aroma
2.5-5
•••Traditional German variety. Drier, spicier than
Hallertauer.
KENT GOLDING
Kent,
England
Aroma
4.5-6.5
—The traditional English aroma hop, reserved for
pale ales.
LIBERTY
U.S.
Aroma
3.5-5.5
•American Hallertauer clone. Somewhat floral
and fruity.
LUBLIN/LUBELSKI
Poland
Aroma
3-5
—Polish hop with Saaz origins. Refined spicy
flavor.
MOUNT HOOD
U.S.
Aroma
3-4.5
—An American Hallertauer clone with
similarities to Hersbrucker.
NORTHERN
BREWER
U.S.,
Germany
Dual
7.5-8.5
•••Neutral-tasting multipurpose hop. Used in
California common.
NUGGET
U.S.,
Germany
Bittering
9-10.5
•••High-alpha hop with delicate but pleasant
aroma.
PERLE
U.S.,
Dual
5-7.5
•••Hallertauer replacement with higher alpha and
Germanyspicier flavor.
PHOENIX
England
Dual
8.5-11.5
••••New dual use with very attractive English
aroma character.
PIONEER
England
Dual
8-10
•••New dwarf variety with clean bitterness and
mild English aroma.
PRIDE OF
RINGWOOD
New
Zealand
Dual
7.5-10
—Tasmanian wild/English cross. Rough and
spicy English character hop.
PROGRESS
England
Dual
5-7.5
•••WGV/American cross. Similar to Fuggle, but a
little sweeter.
SAAZ
Czech
Republic
Aroma
3.5-5
—The classic spicy/herbal hop of Pilsener beers.
SANTIAM
U.S.
Dual
5-7
•Newer dual-use hop with strong similarity to
German Tettnang.
SHINSU WASE
Japan
Aroma
4.5-6
•Saaz/American ancestry. Spicy, refined
character.
SLADEK
Czech
Republic
Dual
9-9.5
•••Newer Czech dual purpose hop with some Saaz
character.
SPALTER
Germany
Aroma
3.5-5.5
•••Highly valued traditional German noble hop,
important in altbiers.
SPALTER SELECT
Germany
Aroma
3.5-5.5
•••Disease-resistant cultivar of Spalt, closer to
Hallertauer in aroma.
STERLING
U.S.
Dual
6-9
••Newer dual use hop with Czech Saaz character.
STRISSELSPALT
France
Aroma
3-4
••The main French variety, probably related to
Hallertauer.
STYRIAN GOLDING
Slovenia
Aroma
4.5-6
••A Fuggle with a rich Golding character.
Common in Belgian ales.
TAURUS
Germany
Bittering
12-15
•Ultra-high-alpha hop with some German
character.
TETTNANGER
Germany,
U.S.
Aroma
3.5-5
••Traditional aroma hop with a soft spiciness.
Great in weissbier!
ULTRA
U.S.
Aroma
2.2-3.I
••Newer aroma variety with a very nice Saaz
character.
VANGUARD
U.S.
Dual
5-6
NANewer dual use hop with German Hallertau
Mittelfrüh character.
WGV (Whitbread
Golding Variety)
England
Dual
5-7.5
••Traditional English hop with sweet, fruity
aroma. A little coarse.
WILLAMETTE
U.S.
Dual
4-6
••American-grown version of Fuggle. Very
similar, but softer.
WYE CHALLENGER
England
Dual
6.5-8.5
•••Dual-use English hop with fruity aroma.
WYE NORTHDOWN
England
Dual
7-10
••Generally regarded as the best of the English
dual-use hops.
WYE TARGET
England
Bittering
10-12
—Mellow. Early high-alpha variety, mostly goes
into extract products.
STORAGE STABILITY:
— Terrible
•Poor
••Fair
••• Good
•••• Excellent
The heat of the boil also liberates and dissolves aromatic oils, but these will also
be driven off by the heat. For this reason hops are added several times during the boil:
in the beginning for bitterness, and toward the end of the boil for flavor and aroma.
For additional aroma, hops may be added after boiling is finished, either by just
dumping them into the kettle or by putting them in a device called a hop back, which
hooks up to the outlet of the kettle and allows the hot wort to filter over the hops on its
way to the chiller. Hops may even be added to the finished beer, a procedure called
dry hopping.
English Hop Ale Bottles, Early Twentieth Century
These were more akin to soda than beer. Wouldn’t you like to see these in the vending
machines?
Hop Pickers, c. 1850
For generations, whole families of working-class Londoners were lured to the hop
fields for a working vacation.
Hops in the Recipe
Many new brewers just go nuts and load up on the bitter resiny flavors, and of
course there’s nothing wrong with this. But after you’ve had your fill at the trough,
you may seek a more balanced and sophisticated approach. Or not.
You don’t always want a lot of hop aroma, but it’s striking how often beers
entered in homebrew competitions have no discernable hop aroma even if the style
requires it. Something’s amiss; brewers are either using the wrong hop varieties or are
using insufficient quantities in the late stages of the boil for the aroma needed.
Many recipes will add the largest quantity of hops at the beginning of the boil,
then smaller amounts in the middle and at the end. This results in most of the
bitterness coming from the first hop addition, and with a relatively small amount of
hop aroma in the finished beer. At some point I started calculating hop bitterness and
decided on how much bitterness I wanted out of each hop addition, all of which is
explained in the Cypherin’ section, p. 64. If you want, say, a third of your bitterness to
come from each of the early, middle, and late hop additions, the quantities used
change dramatically—relatively small amounts in the early addition, fairly large
quantities in the second (half-hour) addition, and very large amounts in the final
aromatic dose.
My personal opinion is that there are few legitimate homebrew uses for high-
alpha hops. Developed at the request of brewery accountants, they’re just one more
example of the “Department of Improvements” wrecking a good thing by trying to
jam their kind of progress down our throats. Most high-alpha hops have somewhat
coarse personalities and feel a little out of place for many traditionally inspired beers.
And why shouldn’t they? They’re just raw feedstock for the extraction process.
That said, they have a place as bittering hops for very bitter beers such as India
pale ales, imperial stouts, and the like. I usually stay away from them, although I
perversely enjoy them as aroma hops in American-style IPAs. The grapefruit-like (the
Europeans call it “cat-piss”) aroma of varieties like Chinook add a citrusy touch. And
to be fair to the hop researchers, varieties with better aromatic profiles continue to be
developed. But generally I stick to my guns; if you want a nice hop flavor and aroma,
use high-quality low-alpha hops, and lots of ’em.
If I didn’t make the point a few paragraphs ago, I think whole hops will make
better beer than pellets. It’s not that pellets are awful, but due to the violent
processing, they seem to have a rougher flavor than whole. On the other hand, they
stay fresh longer and some varieties may only be available in pellet form since they’re
easier to ship from faraway places like Slovenia or New Zealand—so you may need to
use them from time to time. Some brewers also like pellets because they’re less messy
in the kettle; however, since they’re chopped fine, they may actually be harder to filter
out. A stainless steel or copper scouring thingy attached to the end of your racking
tube makes a simple and effective filter, so this really shouldn’t be a problem.
Many beginner recipes suggest the use of a hop bag. These don’t work all that
well. Unless the bags are of extremely fine mesh, pellets leak right out, and whole
hops don’t get the opportunity to roil around the kettle as they need to in order to get
incorporated into the wort. So, skip the bag. If you’re chilling in the pot, either in a
sinkful of water or with an immersion wort chiller (p. 32), stirring in a circular motion
will whirlpool the hop detritus and other solids into a cone-shaped pile in the center of
the kettle, and you can then siphon carefully from the edge of the kettle.
An interesting old technique that has recently been rediscovered is called first
wort hopping. This involves adding a portion of the bittering hops to the kettle when
the very first runnings of the mash start to trickle in. For some mysterious reason, this
seems to fix the flavor of the hops into the final beer. I have experimented with this,
and tasted a lot of beers brewed this way, and it does seem to add a profound hop
flavor. If you wanted to simulate this in an extract brewing method, the best thing
would be to simmer a third of your first hop addition with a half-gallon (2 liters) of
water with a dollop of extract added for about half an hour, then add the rest of the
ingredients and brew as usual.
There are lots of radical old techniques for hop use. Some antique recipes will
recommend steeping the hops overnight in the cold water used as brewing liquor.
Authentic Berliner weisse recipes from the old days recommend adding hops right
into the mash, which will help in lautering this naked grain. These beers were often
unboiled before fermentation, and of course the hops would have had a preservative
effect as well, especially in knocking down the massive load of lactic acid bacteria
that comes with the grain. But even with the hops, such a beer would have needed to
be consumed quickly.
Dry-hopping has long been used to preserve and add flavor to beer. Hops are
simply added to the storage vessel, or more typically, to the serving cask, where they
impart lots of fresh hop aroma. This technique is most typical of English real ales,
such as bitters, pale ales, and IPAs. It may be used wherever a little boost of hop
aroma is desired. Quantities are in the range of 0.25 to 1 ounce (7 to 28 grams) per 5
gallons (19 liters) (although some hopheads will double that), with the very finest
aroma hops reserved for this purpose.
Hop Usage Methods
Technique
Description
Result
First Wort Hopping
Added as wort hits kettle
Flavor; plus some aroma and bitterness
Full Boil
Added at start of boil
Bitterness
Mid-Boil
Added 15-30 min. from end
Bitterness + aroma
End-of-Boil/Post Boil
Added last 5 min. or end
Aroma
Hop Tea
Hops boiled in water
Mostly aroma. Limited effectiveness
Dry-Hopping
Hops added to secondary
Very fresh hop aroma
Many homebrewers worry that dry hopping will sully their fresh, clean beers, and
it is logical to fear that throwing in handfuls of a raw farm product would invite
microbiological havoc. In practice, such contamination is rare, and there seems to be
little risk in the practice. Use only the freshest, best quality hops. You can place them
in hop bags to keep them from clogging up the “out” hole.
IS IT OR IS IT NOT THE WATER?
Well, yes. And no.
Water can add to, or more likely detract from, the flavor of
a beer, and brewers of every scale are well-advised to take it
into consideration before they brew. In the old days just coming
up with potable water was a big deal, and cities famous for
brewing were inevitably situated near sources of clean water.
The beer in those cities evolved to take advantage of the
chemistry of the local water, as the science wasn’t understood
well enough to manipulate it. Although the chemistry of
water—called liquor when destined for brewing— is complex if
you really want to dig into it, for most of us there are just a few
simple things to keep in mind.
Water falls from the sky in a relatively pure form, soft and free from minerals.
During its journey through streams, rivers, lakes, caves, and other deep geological
strata, it absorbs minerals from the surrounding rock. Volcanic rocks tend to give up
very little; sedimentary rocks, formed by the precipitation and biological deposition of
minerals from water eons ago, are more ready to redissolve back into whatever’s
flowing by. Most commonly this rock is limestone (calcium carbonate) or dolomite
(magnesium carbonate). More rarely deposits of gypsum (calcium sulfate) may be
found, and these also add their rocky tang. Such minerals impart a quality to water
called hardness. This has for a long time been measured by how readily soap will
form lather, as this is of some importance for domestic water users.
“Possibly the best water in England is that at Castleton, in
Derbyshire, commonly called, the Devil’s Arss, &c...I have
seen the Ale made of Castleton Water as clear in three days
after it was bareled as the Spring Water was itself, and
impossible to be known by the Eye in a Glass from the finest
Canary Wine.”
— Edward Whitaker, 1700
Hard water may be divided into carbonate, or temporary, hardness; and sulfate, or
permanent, hardness. As one would expect, temporary hardness can be coaxed into
loosening its grip and leaving the water, while permanent is as it sounds. Many of the
great brewing centers of the world, including Munich, Dublin, London, Saint Louis,
and Milwaukee have water with temporary hardness. Most of the midwestern United
States, situated on a giant slab of Paleozoic limestone, falls into this camp. Surface
water, from rivers or reservoirs, tends to be more dilute in its mineral content than
well water, and is usually unencumbered by noxious bit players like sulfur or iron,
either of which can be ruinous to beer flavor. Carbonate will make water more
alkaline, indicated by a higher pH.
Carbonates may or may not be a problem depending on what sort of beer you’re
brewing. The most noticeable effect is to alter the character of hops, emphasizing
harsh, astringent qualities that are pretty unpleasant in beer. In the case of London,
Munich, and Dublin, the beers that developed around the local water were dark beers.
This is because dark malts have sufficient acidity to bring the whole system into
balance, and whether hoppy, like Irish stout, or malty, like Münchner, these dark beers
are smooth on the finish without any raspy bitterness.
It’s a very different story for sulfate (permanent) hardness. The brewing location
famous for such water is Burton-on-Trent, long famous for pale, bitter beers. With
sulfate water, the hops can express themselves free of any astringency. If you’ve ever
tasted a well-kept cask of Bass ale, you can detect a hint of plaster—calcium sulfate—
in the lovely nose, and then, wham, the hops, smooth and clean. Burton water is
highly variable and massively mineral-like, with dissolved solids often over 2000
ppm, and sulfate content higher than 600 ppm. Should you be blessed (or cursed) with
such liquor, you can either brew Burton style ales, or dilute it way down with distilled
water.
The water of Plzen, another brewing center famous for pale, bitter beer, is almost
completely mineral free. Although this would seem to be ideal, it is actually so pure
that the enzymes may have a little trouble getting going. To cope, brewers there
developed a hideously complex triple decoction mash, which, coupled with a steely,
undermodified Moravian malt, turns out the most exquisite golden nectar. This
traditional technique can be done at home, but it is not for the faint of heart.
pH
pH is the scale used to describe the acidity or alkalinity of a substance, a
measure of the concentration of hydrogen ions. The 14-point pH scale is
logarithmic, which means that each number represents a ten-fold increase in
concentration. A pH of 7 is neutral, with lower numbers increasingly acidic,
and higher ones alkaline.
Carbonate in brewing water may easily be reduced by the homebrewer. To stay
soluble, the mineral depends on dissolved carbon dioxide, a mild acid. If you remove
the CO
2
by boiling, the carbonate falls right out, familiar to most of us as the chalk
that appears on the bottom of the teakettle. This process is aided by the addition of a
small amount of calcium—in the form of calcium hydroxide or calcium chloride—
which gives the carbonate ions something to combine with. Gypsum will work as
well. How much to add depends on how much carbonate is present. This can be
calculated down to the milligram, which is rarely necessary for homebrewing. The
moderately carbonate water, found in all the Great Lakes and upper midwestern river
systems (note that well water from the same region is usually two to three times as
hard), will require roughly 1 teaspoon (3.5 grams) of calcium chloride or 2 teaspoons
(8 grams) of gypsum per 5 gallons (19 liters) of water to help precipitate the
carbonate. It should be noted that boiling will not remove all the carbonate, but it will
usually knock it down to the point that a pale bitter beer is feasible.
Other minerals may also have an effect on beer flavor. Salt is often present in
small amounts and can contribute a savory roundness to beer. It was previously used
in certain light-gravity European beers to add an impression of body, and in the case
of the East German white ale called gose, the drinker could even select the level of
saltiness. In the old days, salt was added, usually in combination with flour, to
“cleanse” casks, or to get the yeast to stop working and settle out. The water of
Dortmund has a fairly high salt content, which may in part account for the full, rich
taste of its beers. Salt cannot be easily removed from water, but fortunately is rarely
found in quantities that would affect the brewing process.
Metals such as copper and zinc are important in trace amounts as yeast nutrients,
which is another reason to avoid distilled water. But too much of them can cause
fermentation or flavor problems. Iron is fairly common in well water, and is not a
welcome addition to brewing water; manganese is less common but is similarly
harmful to flavor, clarity, and yeast. Other metals may be present in areas associated
with mining, and are often at levels that can be tasted. If in doubt, get an analysis.
Aluminum has gotten a bad rap because of its supposed association with
Alzheimer’s disease. Work by some homebrewers has shown that even if this link was
proven (which it is not), very little aluminum leaches into beer, even when brewing in
unlined aluminum kettles. Aluminum may appear delicate and frail, but it actually
surrounds itself with a nearly impregnable layer of aluminum oxide—the same
mineral as rubies—that is extremely nonreactive.
Tin, which is not considered a particularly harmful metal for humans, may cause
the beer to become hazy. It is the primary constituent of lead-free or soft silver solder.
Heavy metals such as lead, cadmium, mercury, and others do show up in low
levels in municipal water supplies, and their levels are mandated by law. Certain
mountainous areas may have high levels of toxic metals due to the underlying
geology. Heavy metals are not removed by a charcoal filter alone, but higher grades of
drinking water filters often contain ion-exchange components that do the job. There’s
no specific problem with these metals and the brewing process. You just don’t want to
consume more than a vanishingly small amount of them.
Fluoride is added to tap water in most cities (where they don’t consider it a
communist plot) to prevent tooth decay. This seems not to affect the brewing process,
yeast, finished beer, or party loyalty in any way.
The most disruptive chemical in tap water is free chlorine, which is added as a
disinfectant. Brewing with chlorinated water (or not rinsing your chlorine sanitizer
well enough) will result in a beer that smells like adhesive bandages, not something
you want in your homebrew. Fortunately a charcoal filter removes chlorine and
chloroamine, as well as traces of nasty organics such as PCBs and pesticides, which,
although regulated, are sometimes present in tap water. Any hardware store or home
center will carry activated charcoal drinking water filters ranging from small,
inexpensive icemaker filters to larger and more expensive under-counter units. If you
do nothing else in terms of water treatment, use a filter.
An Ancient Beer Saga
The Finnish-Hungarian national epic poem, the Kalevala, contains a charming
tale of the discovery of fermentation. The brewer, Osmotar, has whipped up a
batch of his finest, but it’s a dud:
“What will bring the effervescence,
Who will add the needed factor,
That the beer may foam and sparkle,
May ferment and be delightful?”
But the “sparkling maiden” Kalevatar, aided by various magic virgins and small
furry animals, comes to the rescue. She tries various remedies, starting with fir
cones and pine branches.
“But it brought no effervescence,
And the beer was cold and lifeless.”
Actually, she’s close. Evergreen parts are still used to flavor beer, and twigs
have also been used as a resting-place for yeast, tossed into the beer as a sort of
magic stick. An eighteenth-century recipe book states: “...it is a common
practice to twist hazel twigs so as to be full of chinks and then to steep them in
ale-yeast during fermentation. The twigs are hung up to dry, and then they are
put into the wort instead of yeast.”
Thereupon, our heroine is struck with another bright idea:
“Gather yeast upon thy fingers,
Gather foam from lips of anger,
From the lips of bears in battle...”
Except for the obvious element of danger, this isn’t a half-bad idea. Saliva has
been used for millennia as a source of starch-splitting enzymes as well as
microbes. But this too fails. Then she hits on a real hummer:
“Osmotar, the beer-preparer,
Placed the honey in the liquor;
Kapo mixed the beer and honey,
And the wedding-beer fermented;
Rose the live beer upward, upward,
From the bottom of the vessels,
Upward in the tubs of birchwood,
Foaming higher, higher, higher,
Till it touched the oaken handles,
Overflowing all the cauldrons;
To the ground it foamed and sparkled,
Sank away in sand and gravel.”
The wedding took place and everyone drank a lot beer and lived happily ever
after. Wild honey, with its abundance of bee-gathered yeasts, got the beer going.
A nineteenth-century lager label evokes a much earlier time.
GODISGOOD: THE MYSTERY OF YEAST
Yeast is not so much an ingredient as a process. Its job in brewing is to turn sugar
into alcohol. Along the way, wort is transformed from a sickly sweet syrup into
something balanced and beautiful. It is alive, as we now know, reacting to its
surroundings, stamping a deep and lasting imprint in the finished product, then getting
out of the way when its work is done. Yeast is so magical it was called Godisgood
before Louis Pasteur (and Schwann and Latour before him) discovered the true nature
of yeast. Science took it out of the metaphysical realm, but it’s still pretty amazing.
Research has revealed yeast to be an astonishingly complex and active entity. It’s
a fungus, a type of life that shares some characteristics with both the plant and animal
kingdoms. It’s a fantastic chemical factory, using an amazing number of chemical
processes to feed itself and reproduce.
Ancient people were clearly aware of yeast; the Sumerians had fifty words related
to it. For millennia, bread and beer were intertwined, and it is unlikely that there was a
distinction made in the type of yeast used, especially when fermentation provided
bakers with big jugs of active yeast. You almost had to brew in order to bake.
After the trashing of Rome by beer-drinking barbarians from the North, the
classical world collapsed and yeast settled in for a long, slow evolution. In the damp
limestone beer “caves” of southern Germany, this evolution took an interesting turn.
The constant chilly temperatures favored a cold-tolerant yeast, one that did its work
on the bottom of the beer rather than on top. By the fifteenth century, this had become
the predominant yeast in that region, giving rise to one of the world’s great families of
beer—lagers.
In England, another tool for the selection of yeast worked in the opposite
direction. Brewers there used various contraptions to “cleanse” the fermenting beer of
yeast in preparation for aging. Most of these used some method or another for
removing yeast from the top of the beer. The simplest method is manual skimming,
but increasingly complex schemes were employed, culminating in the Burton Union,
an improbable arrangement of barrels and swan necks that encouraged the yeast to
rise out of the bungholes on top of the barrels.
Every set of local conditions bred its own blend of brewer’s yeast, sometimes
with wild yeast and bacteria mixed in. Remnants of this ancient way of brewing exist
today in the Lambic beers of Belgium. In these unique brews, the region’s wild yeast
is encouraged to come through slats in the eaves and inoculate the wort cooling in
shallow pans in the attic. Wild yeast and bacteria have also taken up residence in the
Liquid Yeast
Both Wyeast and White Labs offer a variety of high quality, pedigreed brewing yeast.
walls, barrels, and (so they say) cobwebs of these rustic breweries. The beer
undergoes a complex chain of fermentation whereby one microorganism breaks down
materials in the beer to create ideal conditions for the next. In a year or two the beer
arrives at a stable, drinkable condition. Lambic tastes dramatically different than
conventional beer, with lots of acidity, unfamiliar aromas, and a vinous, bone-dry
palate. For more on this, and how to brew it, see Chapter 15.
Around 1885, Emil Christian Hansen isolated a single-cell strain of lager yeast,
and it has been propagated this way ever since. Industrial brewing has favored clean,
straightforward yeasts, but some eccentric strains of brewing yeast are still thriving.
Many of the artisanal beers of Belgium showcase the amazing variety of flavors yeast
is capable of producing. Bavarian weizen, with its unique, clove-like aroma, is another
delightful example. Many of these strains are currently available as commercial
products through homebrew suppliers.
In the dark ages of homebrewing, we were stuck using dried yeast. This is yeast
that has been dehydrated in such a way as to keep it alive but dormant, so that it will
reactivate on contact with warm water, ready for brewing. Dried yeast is not always
bad, but it does have limitations. First, few choices are available, and only rarely are
they specific brewing strains. Second, homebrewers are the smallest customers for
dried yeast, with distillers and bakers accounting for most of the volume, so the strains
may not always be the ones we’d choose. Third, the dehydration process asks a lot of
the poor little critters, which means strains may be selected more for their ability to
survive this brutal treatment rather than solely for their brewing value. Fourth, this
yeast will deteriorate in time, so it’s important to find the freshest pack you can.
Dried yeast should be rehydrated in warm water at 100 to 1 10° F (38 to 43° C).
There is no need to add sugar or malt extract, and there is some evidence to suggest
that it may even be harmful. I usually just put a measuring cup or beaker half full of
tap water in the microwave and bring it to a boil. After it boils, I put a small piece of
aluminum foil over the top and let it cool. Sprinkle the yeast over the surface. In a few
minutes, it will start to bubble. Let it cool to fermentation temperature before pitching.
That said, it is possible to brew perfectly fine beer with dried yeast. But if you
take this hobby seriously, you’ll want the purity, provenance, and subtlety of liquid
yeast.
There are hundreds of different beer yeast strains in use at
breweries around the world. These strains are maintained at
universities such as Weihenstephan in Germany, as well as
commercial yeast labs like Wyeast and White Labs, who package
them for sale to brewers. For long-term storage, freezing in liquid
nitrogen is the preferred method. At normal, even refrigerated
temperatures, yeast loses its viability quickly, and needs frequent
reculturing to maintain a healthy state.
Among the many flavor differences between strains are
emphasis of hop or malt flavors; fruitiness, spiciness, and other
aromatic qualities; levels of the buttery chemical diacetyl; and attenuation, which
affects the dryness and alcoholic strength of the beer. Flocculation is yeast’s ability to
clump together and fall out of suspension when finished fermenting, and is an
important characteristic, especially for commercial breweries. Additionally, the yeast
may vary in its reaction to fermentation time, temperature, vessel shape, size or depth,
strength of beer, CO
2
pressure, and many other factors. The manufacturers have good
detailed information on their Web sites about flavors, beer types, and other
characteristics. Choosing the perfect yeast for a brew is complicated, and if you’re
trying to really fine-tune a brew you may have to brew several batches so you can try
different yeasts.
Louis Pasteur
Much of his groundbreaking work centered on beer.
“Pontoon” Room, John Taylor Brewery, Albany, NY 1868
These primary fermenters spewed yeast which was collected and repitched, assuring the
propagation of strongly top-fermenting yeast.
Chapter 5
H
OW TO
B
UILD A
B
EER
IT’S ART, I TELL YOU—PUTTING A RECIPE TOGETHER
A great beer is more than the sum of its parts. Hitting the parameters for a style—
color, gravity, and bitterness—may put you in the running for a ribbon, but it won’t
take best of show. A great beer has some extra magic that makes an impression on the
drinker. Brewing is too much work to settle for mediocrity; dull beers are easy enough
to buy ready-made. With the proper approach and quality ingredients, every batch can
tap dance on the tongues of your amazed friends in an unforgettable performance.
Brewing is an art form. Color, texture, form, contrast, harmony, and surprise are
all available for the artistic brewer to employ. Your audience has a specific set of
senses with which to appreciate your art, as well as expectations that can be affected
with names, packages, glassware, and the like. Your job as a brewer is to put them
together into a coherent aesthetic experience.
So where to start? You can’t underestimate the value of the big idea. You should
be able to describe your beer idea in a short phrase: “a milkshake-smooth strong
porter,” for example. Once you have that, every decision should support the big idea.
In this example, you might want to use raw wheat and oats, then lager for three
months to take out every last kink. When you think about it this way, you end up
making decisions that really add to the personality of the beer.
Balance is crucial for all gustatory experiences. Of course, there’s malt and hops,
neatly countering each other. You’re not always trying to even things out; sometimes
you want a seriously malty or hoppy beer. But there does come a point where things
get lopsided, and of course, there’s some subjectivity in where the line is drawn. You
also have to remember that the balance will change as the beer ages. Hops lose about
half of their bitterness every year a beer ages, which can be significant in a very
strong beer meant for long aging. Other flavors fade as well, causing the maltiness to
increase.
Balance can have more than two sides. You can get a three-way going with malt
sweetness, hop bitterness, plus roasted or toasted malt flavors, which is one of the
things that keeps dark, malty beers from being cloying. And when you throw in things
like fruit, acid, smoke, hot chiles, or other deviant ingredients, the beer’s balance can
hang on very different hinges. Consider drinkability. This obviously has different
meaning for an ordinary bitter than for a barley wine, but the concept applies to both.
While sugar has been the bête noire of the homebrew revival, Belgian brewers feel no
such false pride and use it to good effect in many strong ales.
Using the best grade of ingredients can have a profound effect. Maris Otter barley
is low yielding and difficult to grow, which is why it has largely been supplanted by
other varieties. But in the right sort of beer where it is properly showcased, it can
present a depth and complexity that can’t be achieved any other way. One use for
luxury ingredients is in relatively light session beers, where you’re trying to find ways
of having enough depth of flavor, but at the same time end up with a beer than can be
drunk by the pint without fatiguing the palate of the drinker. On the opposite end of
the spectrum, barley wines benefit from top-grade malt, a point insistently made in the
old brewing manuals.
There’s a continuum of quality in malt. In general, American malt, having been
selected and malted to suit American brewers, just doesn’t have the same depth of
flavor as its European counterparts. In a beer all loaded up with crystal malt and
Cascade hops this hardly matters, but for a delicate blonde ale with nothing to hide
behind, you’ll be much happier with the more flavorful malt.
Take a cue from cooking—layer flavors for greater depth. Don’t use just one malt
when two would do. But be sensible about it. Paler malts are more delicately flavored
than dark ones. And consider the context as well. Two ounces of Munich malt will
enrich a Pilsener, but will be undetectable in a stout.
Special ingredients often require special techniques in order to get what you want
out of them. Raw wheat, for example, is resistant to infusion mashing, and requires
something more intensive to extract fermentable material and the protein that adds
that great creamy texture.
I always like to add a twist so subtle that no one is going to figure it out. Consider
Guinness stout, with its subtle 3 percent infusion of soured beer, which adds a snappy
crispness to this seductive black beer. You’re always looking for depth.
CYPHERIN’: CALCULATION IN THE BREWERY
In order to get to the point where all this magic
artistry can take effect, you have to engineer the
foundation. The basics of beer styles are built on the
parameters of gravity, color, and bitterness. These
three qualities are predictable with varying degrees
of accuracy. No formulation system is dead-on
accurate; the important thing is that they are
repeatable in any given brewhouse.
All of this calculator punching may seem like
needless work, but the arithmetic actually frees up
your creative brain for more important tasks. You
can learn to think in percentages, and formulate
recipes based on the big picture of where you want to end up.
Since you are working with numbers in your recipe, it is helpful to try to calibrate
your senses. Learn what a 45 IBU beer tastes like, and what a 20° SRM beer looks
like. Find a book that has specific information about various brands and take notes as
you drink.
Gravity can be predicted with some precision. Liquid malt extract will vary only
by the amount of water in it, which runs between 77 and 82 percent. Each type of
grain can contribute a specific amount of extract, between 68 and 82 percent of its
weight, and this is tested by the maltsters. These extract figures are listed in the malt
chart on
&
You will never reach this theoretical maximum, but the amount
by which you miss is relatively constant for similar techniques.
Beer by the Numbers
This chart is a rough guide to beer color as expressed by the numbers. As with the malt
chart, the numbers have been simplified, and all these styles exist as a range rather than
a single number.
If you’ve already brewed an all-grain batch, it’s easy to go back and calculate
your efficiency. Just add up the amount of extract that theoretically would have been
yielded, and then look at what you actually got. Divide actual by theoretical, and
that’s your efficiency. Be sure to pay special attention to the exact quantity of wort
produced. Being just a quart off in a 5-gallon recipe represents a potential 5-percent
error.
An efficiency of 75 to 80 percent of laboratory extract is about where most
homebrewers end up, and 75 percent is the figure used to calculate the recipes in this
book. The efficiency is about 5 percent higher if a decoction mash is used.
Another key characteristic you can play with is attenuation, or the extent to which
malt sugars in the wort are fermented by the yeast. Malt extracts vary greatly in their
fermentability, from 57 to 81 percent. Highly attenuated beers tend to be dry on the
palate, and have the maximum amount of alcohol for their gravity. Less attenuated
beers drink heavier and sweeter, with less alcohol. It should be obvious which beer
styles can take advantage of those qualities. With extract beers it’s a matter of
choosing a single product or a blend that matches the profile you’re aiming for. In all-
grain beers the fermentability may be manipulated by the time and temperature of the
saccharification rest, plus other factors. See p. 37.
Calculating color is a bit problematic, but there are ways you can achieve
meaningful results as long as you don’t expect real science. Malt Color Units (MCUs)
are a simple way to express the total pounds times color of malt in a recipe. Simply
multiply malt color in SRM times pounds for each grain, add them all up, and divide
by the number of gallons in the recipe. Simple, right?
ASBC* Color Measurement Standard in a Nutshell
Sample is decarbonated and centrifuged or filtered (if needed) to remove haze, which
will affect readings. The sample is inserted into a 1 cm sample cuvette. This is loaded
into a spectrophotometer and absorbance is read at a blue wavelength of 430
nanometers.
The Absorbance value is multiplied by two factors: x 1.27 to compensate for the 1 cm
cuvette size (original standard was written for 1/2”); and then x 10, which was applied
to help the photoelectric method correlate better to the old Lovibond glass comparison
standards. The resulting number is the beer color, ° SRM.
Few spectrophotometers can give a reading beyond 20, and most are far more accurate
in the lower end of the scale. For this reason, samples of darker beers must be diluted
with distilled water before reading. Everyone seems to agree that there is sort of
nonlinearity, but the prevailing attitude is just to wink and move on.
*American Society of Brewing Chemists
Calculated vs. Actual Color
This chart gives an approximate translation between color calculated in a
recipe and the actual color of the finished beer. It’s not scientific, but it
does give useful results.
Well... two problems: malt color numbers are about as predictive of the colors in
a finished beer as the names on crayon colors, a fact that makes most people in the
malting and brewing business just sigh in resignation. The second is that malt color
just doesn’t add up in a linear fashion. The more you add, the less color really shows
up, so you end up with a calculated color as much as three or more times higher than
the beer will actually measure. People in the know postulate that there is some sort of
interaction of color molecules at high concentrations, and probably some precipitation
of color compounds (melanoidins) during boiling or later, but nobody really seems to
know.
At the very low end of the scale (2 to 4° SRM), the calculations work out fine.
For us homebrewers, this isn’t all that relevant, because at these levels, things like
batch variations and kettle caramelization are large enough factors to throw this into
chaos. It’s the amber and darker beers where the calculations are needed most.
Based on work that I, and later Ray Daniels, have done, and verified by personal
experience, here’s a conversion chart that offers a rough translation between MCU
and SRM beer colors. As you can see, the darker you get, the more discrepancy
between predicted and actual color.
So all you do is translate your desired beer color from SRM to MCU, then start
adding up the malts, starting with the medium colored ones, adding enough of the
palest ones to get to your desired gravity, ther adjusting the color with the darker
malts. It’s a little tricky at first, but it will give you more reliable results than just
guessing.
And as a general rule, I personally like to get most of my color from the malt that
is not the darkest one in the recipe. To my taste, they’re just more profound this way,
but it’s clearly a personal preference.
You should be aware that there are loads of other factors that affect beer color:
• Mash Efficiency
More efficient = darker
• Batch-to batch variation of malt
Lighter or darker
• Yeast
Lighter or darker
• Kettle caramelization
Longer, more vigorous boil = darker
• Mash & boil pH
Higher pH = darker
• Aging time
Aging reduces color
• Finings or filtration
Either may reduce color
Am I saying you can ignore these? Yes I am. Anheuser-Busch can’t, but you can.
This color prediction business will get you only so far. If you’re really trying to nail
that Ninkasi award, you’ll be well advised to do some trial batches and make
adjustments based on your own experience, as brewers have always done.
ON TO A RECIPE
What I’m getting at is that it’s a good idea to try to define the signature malt
character you would like to taste in your beer, and build your recipe around it.
It doesn’t have to be just one thing. You can aim for a symphony of malty flavors,
balancing rich warming maltiness with a whiff of sharp roastiness to create a balanced
old ale or Scotch ale, for example. Or chunk up the austere purity of Pilsener malt
with an overlay of Munich or Vienna. Maybe you want to do as one brewer did after
hearing me rant on the subject, and put some of every kind of malt you can find into
the beer and just be done with it. That’s complex! The possibilities are endless, so it
helps to have a plan.
Consider especially the middle malts. In porter and stout, expecting pale and
black malt to do all the work can leave one a bit disappointed. Putting a thick, creamy
layer of something or other in there can give this a lot more personality. There are lots
of choices here: amber/biscuit, aromatic, and the crystals can all fill this role. You
might even consider replacing half or more of your pale malt with something with a
dab more color; mild ale malt was a common choice in Britain in the nineteenth and
twentieth centuries. Its color (5 to 7° SRM) gives it rich, malty qualities very much
like Munich, and this will fatten and add fascination to these sometimes drab working-
class beers.
I usually calculate color and gravity at the same time. I start with the medium-
colored grains, and I usually have a pretty good idea of how much I want to use for
flavor and color. Add up the gravity from them, and subtract from the gravity target to
get the amount of base malt required. Then add up the color from those two and
calculate the amount of the darkest malt required to get you where you want to go,
colorwise. You can just ignore the gravity contributed from less than a pound of really
dark malt.
I love to use specialty grains for special purposes: wheat for head, oats for
creaminess, rye for spiciness. And don’t forget that roasted specialty grains such as
wheat or oats (see
have flavors that are quite distinct from roasted malt.
Hop Utilization Chart
Find the utilization % at the intersection of the boil time and wort gravity lines. NOTE:
chart is for whole hops; utilization for pellets will be 24% greater.
Hop bitterness can be predicted accurately enough to be useful. Each hop has an
assayed alpha acid content, and the main factors that determine how much of this
bitterness gets into the beer can be taken into account in your calculations. They are:
• Boil time
Longer (up to 1.5 hours) means better utilization
• Wort gravity
Higher (above 1.030) means lower utilization
• Quantity
More is more, up to about 100 IBU
• Pellets vs. Whole Pellets will yield about 25 percent more IBU than whole
Bitterness in beer is measured by the parts-per-million of iso-alpha acids, a fairly
complicated process involving a very expensive ultraviolet spectrophotometer. The
measurement is called International Bitterness Units, or IBU. Some IBU levels in
common beers are shown on p. 31.
To calculate hop bitterness, you need to have the alpha acid content, which will
come from your supplier, or you can get typical values from the hop chart on p. 49.
You also need the utilization rate, which is based on the boil time and wort gravity.
See the chart on p. 64. Then, get out the calculator. Each addition and variety must be
calculated individually. A correction factor is applied to make the numbers work out
to standard IBU units. Different corrections are used depending on whether you’re
using ounces or grams as your measurement.
Hop Quantity and IBU Calculation—Examples
Hop quantity, in ounces x Alpha acid % x Utilization % x Correction
factor: 15.8 = IBU (predicted)
Example: 1 oz x 5 AAU [=5] x 25% [=1.25] x Correction factor: 15.8 =
19.75 IBU
Hop quantity, in grams x Alpha acid % x Utilization % x 0.55 = IBU
(predicted)
Example: 28 g x 5 AAU [=140] x 25% [=35] x Correction factor: 0.55 =
19.25 IBU
Then you add the hop additions up, and that’s your total estimated
IBU number.
Other factors can affect utilization, including pH, boil vigor, wort protein, cold
break, yeast type, and more. Overall the effect from these are small and more or less
consistent for any given brewery, so they’ll just have to be ignored, as this hop
calculation is complicated enough already. However, boiling the hops in a hop bag
noticeably reduces bitterness, so bump up your hop quantities by perhaps 25 percent
in this case. Also, time takes a toll on hop bitterness before and after they are added to
the beer. Depending on variety and storage conditions, hops can lose up to half of
their bittering power in a year. And the same thing happens in the beer. There’s no
precise way to calculate this, but if you know you are working with old hops, or are
brewing a beer that will be aged for a long time, heavy up on the hops.
For hops, I like to calculate each hop addition (full boil, thirty minutes, five
minutes, for example) as a percentage of total alpha acid. As you move the focus from
the beginning toward the end of the boil, the hop quantities increase, giving you much
better flavor and aroma (remember this isn’t always what you want). This uses more
hops, but who’s on a budget?
Hop character is far more elusive. In the case of our milkshake-like wheat porter,
I might choose Northern Brewer, as I find it has a sort of bittersweet chocolate
character that will complement the milkshake idea. Varietal choices should generally
follow national style traditions: German hops for German beers, and so on.
Calculator Wheels
You can work out the particulars of gravity and bitterness with a pencil and paper. A
handheld calculator makes this reasonably easy, but these circular slide rules I cooked
up make the job really simple, especially when calculating backward from IBU to hop
quantities.
Brewing calculator programs are available to run as freestanding applications on the
PC, or as a template for Excel. These work well, but they do tie you to your computer
or handheld PDA, neither of which are exactly wortproof.
IT’S ALL ABOUT PROCESS
Water can contribute its magic by completely screwing up an otherwise fine brew
if attention is not paid to the minerals present (see p. 54). Other process issues also
play important roles. Don’t forget to include things like mash temperature, boil time,
and fermentation temperature as part of the recipe process; they should work in
service of the big idea just as much as any ingredient.
Don’t expect to get it perfect the first time. Breweries that make really great beer
are obsessed with tinkering with their recipes. Think like the great jazz clarinetist
Benny Goodman. Keep it the same until you can improve on it, then wail, man, wail.
Hot Side Aeration—What, Me Worry?
This is, as it sounds, the exposure of hot wort to oxygen during various
phases of the brewing process, such as mash stirring and wort transfer.
This has been a bit of a bogeyman of late, with some people going to
extreme lengths to prevent it. The question is, will it cause problems in
homebrewed beer, especially oxidized flavors as the beer ages? Breweries
certainly take it seriously, but then they have a lot more to worry about in
terms of product stability. The jury is still out as to whether HSA is
injurious to your average batch of homebrew, but I think it’s safe to say it
isn’t a huge problem, a view supported by the fact that the phenomenon
was not even discovered by brewing science until fairly recently. But it
also makes sense to try to avoid techniques that are likely to expose hot
wort to an undue amount of air if alternative methods can be found.
FERMENTING
Yeast love wort. It contains sugars that form the main nutrient source, along with
protein fragments called amino acids, fatty chemicals called lipids, and traces of
inorganic minerals such as zinc and copper. All of these components are important,
and a deficiency of any one of them can cause the yeast to perform poorly.
Fortunately this is not a problem with most beers, so yeast nutrients are rarely needed
for brewing.
Another important element is oxygen, without which yeast cannot reproduce. For
this reason, it is important to adequately aerate your wort, which should always be
done after the wort is cooled, because aeration of hot wort has the potential to cause
problems. There are various ways to aerate chilled wort. Vigorous splashing,
dribbling, or spraying the wort into the fermenter will add some oxygen. An aquarium
pump with an air stone does a better job; a tank of oxygen is the geek solution and the
way it’s done at commercial breweries.
Temperature is the great regulator of yeast activity. At the simplest level, yeast
take up sugar and split it into carbon dioxide and ethanol. But along the way, yeast
make lots of other chemicals that have a profound effect on the flavor of beer. And
most of these aromatic chemicals, from fruity esters to solvent-like fusels, are created
in greater amounts at higher temperatures. This is the key difference between ales and
lagers.
A vast storage cask in Heidelberg, Germany, c. 1900.
Ales, fermented relatively warm, have a far more complex aroma than lagers. At
cool temperatures, the accent in lager remains on malt and hops, without the fruity,
spicy aromatics that characterize ales. While specific yeasts for each are normally
used, it is the temperature that makes the real difference. Certain ales—altbiers, for
example—are fermented cool and have more of a lager-like quality. Others, like
Anchor Steam, employ a lager yeast at warm temperatures and consequently have
much more of an ale-like flavor profile.
Some yeast strains accentuate malt, while others favor hops. Certain varieties
bring woody, spicy, fruity, or other characteristics to the brew. It takes a long time to
become familiar with them, but don’t be afraid to interrogate your homebrew pals
about their experiences.
There has always been a great debate among homebrewers about whether a one-
stage (primary only) or two-stage (primary plus secondary) fermentation method
should be used. Conventional wisdom says that racking the beer off to a carboy after
the yeast drops will produce a cleaner-tasting beer, and, since the secondary carboy is
full to the brim, will keep away oxygen-born problems like acetobacteria. This is all
theoretically true, but in my own experience, it really isn’t necessary to do this with
beers that will be ready to bottle or keg within a month, which is the majority of
normal-strength beers. The problem of off-flavors from trub and autolysed yeast is
more of an issue with pale, delicate beers, but many of these get lagered in a
secondary anyway so the problem kind of solves itself. The oxygen argument may be
more pertinent in a plastic bucket, which may do a poorer job of keeping a blanket of
CO
2
over the beer, especially if you keep lifting the lid to check the progress.
Normally, the primary fermenter is filled about three-quarters full, and a lid or
stopper with a fermentation lock is fitted on it, allowing CO
2
gas to escape.
Occasionally you will get a beer that ferments vigorously, or you may desire to make
a 5-gallon batch in a 5-gallon carboy. Either way, you will have foam gushing out of
the top of the lock, a grossly unsanitary mess. The usual remedy for this is to use a
large-diameter hose jammed into the neck of the carboy, the other end dunked into a
plastic bucket partially filled with bleach water, forming a large fermentation lock.
Ever since a professional brewer described to me the thick raft of bacteria he found
growing in a bucket of strong bleach solution, I have been wary of its omnipotence in
the sanitation department.
Wort Aeration Methods
Technique
Comments
Splashing
Relatively ineffective, but better than nothing
Spraying
Moderately effective, especially if streams are fine
Aquarium pump
Reasonably effective; good enough for all but the strongest beers
Pure oxygen
The most effective method
The solution is a closed blow-off. This requires a vessel such as a gallon jug fitted
with a two-hole stopper. A metal or plastic tube goes through one hole, descending
nearly to the bottom, and is connected at the top to a hose coming from the carboy. I
just use a lock in a stopper, but without the internal parts, leaving a tube sticking up to
slide the hose over. On the blowoff jar, a fermentation lock fits into the second hole
and keeps the whole system clean and isolated from the surrounding environment.
The long tube goes to the bottom because if the two openings are close together in the
jug, the foaming goo sometimes can gush right up through the lock.
Closed Blow-off
The key to this is the two-holed stopper on the smaller container. A fermentation lock is
fitted to one; a dip tube goes in the other, and serves to prevent yeast foam from being
pushed out of the lock.
BOTTLE-CONDITIONED BEER
This is pretty straightforward. A carefully measured amount of
sugar or malt extract is added to the finished beer, and this is put
into bottles and sealed. The added sugar will ferment, creating
carbon dioxide gas that will dissolve in the beer, creating fizziness.
The usual method is to bring a small saucepan with a couple of cups
of water along with the priming sugar in it to a boil, then allow to
cool to blood heat, covered. It is then added to the beer, stirring
gently to avoid introducing too much air into it, and filled into
bottles. Unless the beer being bottled is very old (like a year), or
very strong (over 10 percent), there is no need to add fresh yeast. It
usually takes about two weeks for the full effect of the carbonation
to take hold.
Priming (Corn Sugar) Quantities per 5-Gallon Batch for Various
Carbonation Levels
Units
Very Low
Medium Low
MediumMedium High
Very High
Oz/5 gallons
3.0
3.75
4.55.25
6.0
Cups/5 gallons
0.45
0.55
0.670.78
0.90
Grams/20 liters
80
100
120140
160
DRAFTING AN ALE
With another kit of gear, you can bypass the tedium of bottling and serve your
beer on draft. The standard homebrew setup is based on castoff soda serving tanks,
most commonly known by one of the manufacturer’s names, Cornelius—corny kegs,
for short. They’re most commonly found in 5-gallon size, although 3- and (rarely) 10-
gallon ones turn up. They all have a removable lid and two quick disconnect fittings.
Carbon dioxide gas hooks up to one, and the liquid comes out the other. The soda
business has largely abandoned this system, so there are lots of them available cheap.
Rubber O-rings may need to be replaced, especially if the tank held something
pernicious like root beer or grape soda, which forever taints the rubber parts.
The gas setup consists of a steel or aluminum gas bottle, designated by the
amount of liquid CO
2
the tank will hold. Five-pound tanks offer a nice compromise
between portability and capacity. A pressure regulator screws onto the gas tank and
drops the pressure from several hundred psi down to useful pressures. The gas tanks
must be pressure-tested every five years, so check the date of the last test stamped into
the shoulder if you’re buying a used one. You want the most recent test date possible.
You can carbonate the beer naturally by priming just like bottles, but this adds a
layer of yeast that tends to get sucked into the serving tube until the very end of the
keg. The more common method is to rack the finished beer into the corny, then hook
up the gas. With nice cold beer and the gas set at 12 psi it will take between one and
two weeks to fully saturate with gas. If you’re in a hurry, you can crank it up as high
as 50 psi (the tanks are rated for 75 psi), and the gas will dissolve more quickly. If
you’re really in a hurry, a few minutes of vigorous rocking of the keg from end-to-end
will jumpstart the process. For the deeply impatient, a carbonating stone can be
attached to a lengthened “gas in” tube, and this can get the beer drinkable in just a few
hours. Before going into serving mode be sure to turn down the pressure to 10 to 12
psi and vent the keg. And if you’re speed-carbonating, try not to overcarbonate the
beer, because it’s hard to get the gas out of the beer once it’s in there.
A Homebrew Draft System
This consists of a soda keg attached to a tank of CO gas through a regulator, which
2
lowers the pressure to appropriate serving levels of 5 to 15 psi. A hose with a plastic
“cobra” tap delivers the beer.
REAL ALE
This is easy to duplicate in the homebrewery. In fact, you
have to work pretty hard to make unreal ale. For homebrewed
cask ale, allow the fermentation to finish in a carboy, then rack
into a Cornelius tank with a low dose of priming sugar (see
bottling). Keep the keg sealed, and if possible, monitor the
pressure with a gauge on the gas inlet. A pressure of 7 to 9 psi
is ideal. To serve by gravity, position the keg horizontally,
with the liquid fitting at the bottom, and attach a hoseless gas
fitting to vent it. If you have a beer engine, you can leave the
keg vertical. Your beer will be brighter if you saw off the
bottom one inch of the dip tube inside to keep from
continuously drawing up the settling yeast. You can also hook up a beer engine, which
looks really cool, but it isn’t really necessary and adds nothing to the taste or texture
of the beer.
With this vented serving, air will enter the beer, encouraging contamination, so
you must drink it within a week. If you want to savor the brew for a longer time, you
must make other arrangements. Instead of venting, hook it up to the gas at a low
pressure—2 to 5 psi—while serving, then disconnect it when you’re done for the day
so the beer won’t soak up additional gas.
Traditional firkins (10.8 U.S. gallons) or pins (5.4 U.S. gallons) are manageable
for homebrewers, but are not generally set up for connecting to CO
2
, so if you wish to
use CO
2
blanket pressure, you’ll have to rig up a fitting for the bunghole.
ABOUT THE RECIPES IN THIS BOOK
In order to save space, I have omitted a fair amount of repetitive detail in the
individual recipes. Also, I have necessarily made some assumptions which may turn
out to differ from your own brewhouse experience, and therefore may require some
adjustments of ingredient quantities.
In addition to all-grain versions of all the recipes, I have attempted to offer
simpler extract + grain recipes where I thought a reasonable approximation could be
made. However, there are some recipes I though might not be worth the effort, so for
those, no extract equivalent is given. If you wish to attempt extract versions of these, I
refer you to the all-grain to extract conversion suggestions offered on p. 37. This
method may be used for converting all-grain recipes from other sources as well.
Malt, grains, and efficiencies The recipes are calculated based on a 75 percent
efficiency; that is, a yield of extract equal to 75 percent of laboratory Hot Water
Extract (HWE), which is the most common measure that maltsters supply with their
malt. If you have been brewing for a while, you may have some idea of what your
brewhouse efficiency is. Simply calculate a previous recipe using the method outlined
on p. 61 to find your efficiency, then make adjustments accordingly. Chances are your
system will differ from my assumptions by less than 10 percent, so you may be able to
live with the discrepancy.
Hop alpha acid (% AA) content and quantities The alpha content used to calculate
the bitterness is stated for each hop variety in the recipes. Note that these are idealized
numbers, and that hops will vary by origin and year. These figures are for fresh hops,
and hops that are a year old may be 20 to 50% less bitter (this also depends on storage
conditions). You may wish to make adjustments.
All hops are calculated for whole hops rather than pellets, so if you wish to use
pellets for any hop addition, reduce the stated quantity by 25 percent. All the hop
calculations have been performed with the hop wheel shown a couple of pages back.
This has been demonstrated to give bitterness calculations as accurate as any
homebrew system out there, but I must stress that there are a lot of variables. If you
find you are getting too much or too little bitterness, then make adjustments to hop
quantities accordingly.
Mashing and brewing procedures There are three basic procedures given in the
recipes: an all-grain, and either an extract + steeped grain, or an extract + mini-mash.
The all-grain procedure, unless specified otherwise, follows the basic infusion mash
detailed on p. 39. Unless different temperatures are given, assume a single mash at
150° F (65.5° C) of sixty minutes duration. A water-to-grain ratio of 1.5 quarts per
pound (0.65 liters per kilogram) is a good general quantity, although for beers mashed
at higher temperatures, the ratio can go as low as 1 quart per pound (0.45 liters per
kilogram); for lower temperatures, the mash can become more dilute: 2 quarts per
pound (0.85 liters per kilogram). For all mashed recipes, keep in mind the importance
of a mash out of 170° F (77° C) at the end of mashing. This will stop the enzyme
activity and keep the starch liquified, which will make sparging easier.
The extract + steeped grain procedure is outlined on p. 32. The extract + mini-
mash procedure is covered on p. 36. Follow the detailed procedures just mentioned
unless the recipe specifies something different.
Yeast, fermentation, and aging For the most part, I have not made specific yeast
strain recommendations for the individual recipes. Within the general type listed in
the recipe, you should consult the detailed specifications posted on the White Labs
and Wyeast sites; they are more detailed and up-to-date than this book could ever be.
Yeast selection is a fine art. Recipe, batch size, temperature, pitching conditions, and
above all, personal preference all play a role in how a yeast will perform—and how
the finished beer will taste. I have mentioned it before, but I cannot overstress the
importance of freshness.
Worksheet I highly recommend that you fill out a worksheet with every brew,
recording the details of ingredients and procedures. Although the fine points may
seem at the time to be etched permanently into your brain, I can assure you that by the
next day or the next month your memory will be a hopeless jumble. Use the sheets. As
a convenience, a downloadable PDF of the worksheet at right (but sized for 8.5” x 11”
reproduction) is available for your use at
Chapter 6
I
S IT
A
NY
G
OOD?
D
rinking is different than tasting
.
Sure, you do taste when you drink (hopefully), but
what we’re talking about here is a real focused attitude
behind a trained set of senses, usually with a specific
purpose in mind. It may be to judge the winners and
losers of a competition, to fine-tune your own brews,
or to try and grasp the nuances of a commercial style.
No matter what you’re doing with it, a little education
can be very helpful.
What is there to work with? To use a computer
analogy, you can break it down into hardware and software. The hardware is
chemistry and physiology, in which specific molecules interact with receptors in the
nose and mouth in sensitive lock-and-key arrangements, firing off neurons that travel
up the nerve chain. The software is psychology, the weird baggage of perception and
conception we deal with all the time. In reality, the hardware/software boundary is a
little fuzzy, as neurons link upwards into higher and higher processing centers in the
nerves and brain.
THE BASICS OF CRITICAL TASTING
We all know the familiar four flavors of sweet, sour, bitter, and salty. There is
one additional flavor called umami (often described as savory) that is especially
prominent in Asian cuisine, as it is naturally present in seaweed, oily fish, and MSG.
All of these tastes are sensed on the tongue, offering a limited range of sensations.
Aroma is vastly more complex, with upwards of ten thousand perceptible odors
detectable by our olfactory sense. In fact, much of what we think of as taste is really
aroma, and people who have lost their sense of smell have difficulty tasting anything,
as you may have noticed when suffering a bad cold.
The molecules that trigger aroma sensations travel in through your nostrils and
into your nasal cavities from the back of your mouth. When tasting, you can
concentrate the aromas by a technique called aspirating, in which you hold some of
the liquid in the bottom of your mouth while gurgling air through it as you slowly
inhale. It takes a while to get the hang of this, but it really does heighten the
experience.
Your sense of smell is wired differently from your other senses. Olfactory signals
go to three places in the brain, all of them very primitive: the hypothalamus, seat of
appetite, anger, fear, and pleasure; the hippocampus, regulator of memories; and the
brainstem, controller of basic bodily functions such as breathing. Because they
interface with such low levels of the brain, aromas have the ability to stimulate
powerful psychological responses, memories, and emotions, far more than other
senses. This provides us with a powerful tool to draw people into our art, and
probably accounts for much of beer’s appeal.
This neural wiring explains why a single whiff can trigger vivid childhood
memories, and our overwhelming revulsion to aromas like decomposing corpses or
brackish water—incidentally the most potent aroma molecule known. These are not
learned. We come pre-wired with them. Similarly, aromas associated with high
nutrient foods—fats, for example—trigger positive feelings without so much as a bite.
There’s a reason they tell you to bake bread before you have an open house for the
home you’re trying to sell.
The clever taster can use these telegraphic memories to help decode aromas in
beer. Perhaps a smell makes you think of your grandma’s house. Is it summer or
winter? Inside or out? Is it a flower, something for dinner, potpourri, air freshener?
Let your mind drift and you just might be able to put your finger on it. Learning to
judge beer is an interesting act of self-discovery.
In addition to aroma and taste, other physical sensations play a role in the
perception of beer. Mouthfeel sensations such as carbonation, body, astringency, and
temperature all affect the experience that is beer. Certain chemicals have unpleasant
effects: the harshness of polyphenols, the oiliness contributed by high levels of
diacetyl, and the eye-watering effect of ethyl acetate (nail polish remover), a common
component of ale.
Our eyes are at work here too, and play a larger role than we would like to admit.
By seeing a beer, certain taste expectations are created: the light maltiness of a pale
beer, the roastiness of a stout, the creaminess of a slow-poured head.
If you’re Fred Eckhardt, even sound offers an appreciable dimension of beer.
English Ale Glasses, Nineteenth Century
Matching the beer to the glass is one of the fine arts of tasting.
YOUR STRANGE BRAIN
Even though taste and aroma sensations are laden with the baggage that comes
along with any psychological process, they are chemically driven at their base level,
and a right-thinking beer judge ought to be able make an even-handed account of
what’s in the glass, right?
Well, yes and no. Even with your head screwed on right, there are many factors
that introduce a considerable amount of non-linearity in the way we perceive aromas
and tastes. Some of these are:
Variable thresholds Perceptions vary from person to person. As an example, 20
percent of the population is unable to smell phenol, a common and not always
welcome aroma in beer. You may be insensitive or super-sensitive to some of the
chemicals found in beer. And of course, having the receptors does not guarantee that
one will recognize a scent when present. Those of you who have gone through the
effort to become a beer judge know just how important training a palate can be.
Concentration effects The amount of a chemical can determine not just the intensity,
but the quality of its aroma. One chemical, o-aminoacetophenone, tastes grainy in
parts-per-trillions, like tacos in parts-per-millions, and like Concord grape juice in
parts-per-thousands. In my own tasting experience, diacetyl and DMS seem to exhibit
this behavior, too.
The Dirty Dozen of Beer Off-Flavors & Aromas
The cellar door startled the cat with its hoarse creaking, and I felt the rush of cool
earthy air from within. Reaching carefully through the cobwebs, I plucked a
seemingly innocent bottle from its long repose, and pondered the sleeping golden
liquid in the dim subterranean twilight. With a quick snap of my wrist and a snakelike
hiss, the ale obediently slid into my waiting glass. No innocent nymph, this beery
banshee fairly shrieked with a chemical so vile, so repulsive as to be pure evil. It was
my old nemesis, Phenol. My anguished cry reverberated throughout the ancient stone
grotto, “Whyyyyyyyyyyyyy...”
If something like this—although perhaps a bit less Poe-like—has ever happened to
you, read on. Like all the other major metaphysical dimensions of the universe, beer
sometimes shows a darker side. Errors in brewing, biological contamination, or poor
storage conditions all may contribute off flavors and aromas to beer. There are a
number of fairly common ones whose presence is often indicative of specific
problems. Learning to recognize them can be crucial to preventing them in the future,
Here’s a list of common beer defects—by no means complete—and a suggestion of
how to easily prepare a sample for this nosing.
These spiked samples are strictly sniffers—DO NOT DRINK!
NAME
COMMENTS & DESCRIPTION
ACETALDEHYDE
This is a green apple-scented chemical that can be created by normal yeast, or
more intensely (and rarely) by bacterial infection. Interestingly, Budweiser uses
this aroma to impart a crisp, “snappy” quality. Use: one small green apple Jolly
Rancher candy smashed and dissolved overnight in a little water; add to sample
beer.
ACETIC
A vinegar aroma caused by infection—intentional, in the case of Belgian lambics
and sour brown ales—by acetobacteria. Use: a couple of teaspoons of distilled
vinegar in a sample beer.
CHEESY
An aroma of limburger or rancid butter caused by oxidized hops, usually as a result
of poor storage conditions. Use: actual limburger, but unwrap it outside, please.
CHLOROPHENOL
An aroma of medical adhesive tape usually caused from inadequate rinsing of
chorine (bleach) sanitizer. Use: a roll of old-fashioned adhesive tape displays the
odor quite well.
DIACETYL
This buttery aroma can be desirable in low concentrations in some ales, but if it
sticks out too far, it’s usually regarded as a defect. Produced by yeast, but especially
by certain bacteria. Use: butter flavor extract (the kind used for baking), one to four
drops or dry equivalent of one-eighth teaspoon. Note that diacetyl’s quality changes
with quantity, and for that reason it might be useful to do a series at different
dilutions.
DMS
(di-methyl sulfide)
A vegetal aroma that can result from brewhouse procedure (a weak boil, wort held
at high temps without boiling) or, in extreme cases, from a slow yeast start or
contamination. Actually regarded as a positive in some pale European lagers, where,
in small quantities, it adds a certain richness. Use: juice from canned corn added to
light beer.
OXIDIZED
A papery, wet cardboard flavor/aroma, the result of over-aged beer, enhanced by
overexposure to air during the brewing process. Oxidized flavors vary from beer to
beer and can manifest themselves as harshness, thinness, astringency, a flat taste, or
other hard-to-pin-down qualities. Use: the oldest, dustiest European beer in the
liquor store, ideally with haze or flakes on the bottom (don’t use weizen, because
the haze is intentional). Go for beer in brown bottles only, as the ancient green-clad
ones are often skunked as well as oxidized.
GOATY/SWEATY
This is not as rare a condition as we would like, both for homebrew and micro brew,
although, thankfully, it’s getting rarer. It’s caused by Lactobacillus and Pediococcus
bacterial infections, which produce capryllic and other organic acids with strong
sweaty or animal (goat-like) aromas. Use: there are no artificial substitutes, so you’ll
have to come up with a bad beer.
PHENOLIC
A broad category of flavor gremlins. The worst of them—3, 5 dimethoxyphenol—is
an indicator of wild yeast infection, and smells like an electrical fire. Other, more
subtle, even pleasant ones, can come from certain yeast strains (weizen) or honey.
Use: a nice fresh Weizen for the clove-like yeast character; honey diluted 1:4 in
water; for the really nasty one, perhaps a piece of phenolic circuit board, the amber
colored kind, freshly rasped or broken for intense aroma. Use: don’t bother to dunk
them in beer, just sniff the objects.
SKUNKY
(methyl mercaptan)
The result of light hitting dissolved hop compounds, resulting in a rubbery, skunky
aroma. Use: European beer in green bottle, placed in sunlight for an hour, then
chilled and served normally.
SOLVENT
Esters are produced by yeast at higher temperatures, and contribute floral or fruity
notes to ales. In extreme cases, this becomes a solvent-like character, due to
concentrations of ethyl acetate. Use: a few drops of old-fashioned nail polish
remover (non-perfumed) in a beer. This is as much a sensation as an aroma; I
always feel my eyes tearing up long before I actually smell it. Solventy aromas can
also come from fusel alcohols.
Matrix effects These are interactions in which the individual aroma chemicals change
each other into something different than any of them alone. Although there are nine
hundred identified chemicals in coffee, there is no known flavor chemical “coffee”—
nothing that, by itself, tastes coffee-like. On p. 169 is a recipe for gingerbread ale, in
which a mixture of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and other spices is added to a beer. It
tastes exactly like gingerbread. The first time I tasted the beer, the aroma sent me back to
my childhood—it was quite striking. It was the exact proportions of these
ingredients that created the effect. DMS is also subject to a matrix effect in beer. In
pale beers, it has a familiar aroma of cooked corn; in dark beers, the aroma is more
like tomato juice. Matrix effects are also involved in “meaty” aromas, which involve
many of the same kinds of (Maillard) chemicals as the flavors of malt.
Masking This is a phenomenon in which one chemical covers up, or diminishes the
effect of, another. Vanilla is a remarkably effective one and can cover a multitude of
minor sins in a beer, if you don’t mind turning your slightly defective brew into a
spiced beer. High hop rates can mask oxidation; high carbonation can mask hops.
Adaptation/potentiation After smelling a substance for a while, the receptors
become desensitized. As you know, when hops first hit the kettle, the smell is strong
and wonderful. After a while, you can’t smell them, but if you leave, then walk back
into the brewery, wham! They hit you again. This is why first impressions are so
important in judging. If you’re having trouble picking up a scent after trying for a
while, give your nose a rest by smelling something else, then coming back to it.
Amazing, but it works.
Moving on to the realm of the psychological, we get to the truly irrational stuff:
Cross-sensory effects How would you grade a black Pilsener? The official judging
form would give it 2 points off. Yet since the visual sense uses more of our brain than
all other senses combined, we sometimes tend to believe our eyes at the expense of
other senses.
The “halo” of name and identity Remember the mystique Coors once had for those
of us east of the Mississippi? My college friends and I once drove a thousand miles
for it in 1973. What did you drink when you drank junk beer (c’mon, admit it,
everybody did)? Have you tasted one recently? Do you have the foggiest idea what it
was you once liked about it? The fire brewing? The beechwood aging? Was it the
champagne of beer? The sky blue waters?
Packaging Labels and interesting, meaningful names can improve your beer—yes,
even homebrew. Such trimmings give a context and set up expectations that are very
real—a way to direct the perceptions of your audience. This is art, not trickery! If you
have grungy bottles with shards of labels stuck on them, what does that say? Do you
respect your beer? Why should I?
An Outline of Beer Evaluation
Judging may be formal or casual, but in either setting it is helpful to break the experience into several
steps, which are outlined below.
Beer evaluation should be done in a room without too many distractions, and most importantly, free
from pervasive odors such as cigarette smoke or food. Small wine glasses are ideal, but clear, odor-
free plastic cups are the norm. Be sure to have water and bland crackers or bread available for palate
cleansing if a number of beers will be judged.
In formal settings, beers are evaluated in flights of 10-15, invariably presented blind (identities
hidden from judges). An experienced judge can deal with two or three such flights in a setting,
depending on the thoroughness of the judging system.
NAME
COMMENTS & DESCRIPTION
AROMA
Do this before anything else, because some aromas dissipate very quickly.
Are the aromas pleasant or not? Do they match the style? Do they add up to
a pleasant overall sensation? Try to pick apart the aromas; note the familiar
and the unfamiliar. If you can’t put your finger on something, try to picture
in your mind some time and place where you can remember the scent.
Sometimes this helps put a name to an aroma.
APPEARANCE
Is the beer cloudy or clear? How’s the head? Does the color match the style
guidelines?
FLAVOR
Pay attention to the way the flavor changes: initial impression, mid-taste,
and aftertaste. Are these pleasant? Do the flavors form a harmonious
whole?
MOUTHFEEL
This is body, carbonation, head, and similar textural sensations. Do they
work with other qualities of the beer? Are they appropriate for the style?
OVERALL
Do all the parts work together? Is there a depth to the beer? Is this
something you will remember later? Is this a beer you would actually
drink? Does it do justice to the style?
JUST THE BEGINNING
This is just the beginning of a study of beer flavor defects and their origins.
Getting your nose sharpened up is the best place to start, but you’ll probably want to
get a little more detail, especially if you’re having a problem with something you
identify here. George and Laurie Fix’s books (Principles of Brewing Science and An
Analysis of Brewing Techniques) offer great, gooey gobs of detail. The organizations
listed below can help connect you with organized judging programs and competitions,
the very best way to go further in this area.
BJCP Beer Judge Certification Program:
AHA American Homebrewers Association:
Chapter 7
B
ASIC
D
RINKERS
I
n most times and places
there is a need for a quenching beer than can
be consumed in quantity without putting the drinker into a compromised state too
quickly. Sometimes these everyday brews are truly watery, with little to recommend
to a serious beer lover. Some, by contemporary reports or recipes, must have been
awful. But the limitations of low-gravity brewing can spur the brewer to produce
beers of great artistry and seductiveness.
EXTRAORDINARY ORDINARIES: BRITISH BITTER
Throughout England’s history, for reasons of privation, taxation, profit, or
temperance, beers have often weakened over time, typically settling into a gravity
range between 1.030 to 1.040 (7 to 9.5 °P), far below the swaggering new brews of
America’s new brewers.
“...it may be in the power of a person to make strong beer,
when it shall baffle the utmost exertion of his art to make it
pleasant.”
— John Richardson, 1777
Using less material forces the brewer to make the most of what he or she uses.
The best ingredients—carefully assembled, processed, and fermented in a way that
maximizes their best qualities—is the basic plan. Serving the beer in superb condition
is the crowning touch. Here’s an expansion of that scheme, along with a trick or two.
Use the best malt British bitter, when well made, is a shining standard for modest-
gravity beer with great depth and personality, much of it due to the character of the
malt. Some of the best ones use an old, difficult-to-farm variety called Maris Otter.
Beers made from it have a nutty depth that’s hard to describe. Yes, it’s more
expensive, but for a homebrewer, it’s just a matter of pennies. In general, British and
other European malts will bring more flavor to a beer. American malts have their
place in brewing, but remember, most are specifically cultivated to brew cold, fizzy,
flavorless beers. Caveat maltor.
Use the best hops Not only are the flavors of low-alpha aroma hops usually better,
but if you use them, you will have a larger quantity than if you use high-alpha hops—
which means a greater amount of hop flavor in the finished beer. And you can use
fairly large quantities of finishing hops (1 to 2 ounces per 5 gallons) in the last half-
hour of the boil without adding a lot of extra bitterness.
Use lightly colored malts for much of the color The color added by a tablespoon of
black malt or a pound of crystal might seem similar, but there’s a vast difference in
flavor. This applies all along the color scale. One of the reasons a Munich dunkel
tastes so rich is that it contains a very high proportion of Munich malt, a relatively
lightly kilned product. Another malt that’s not widely used enough is mild ale malt.
It’s similar in color to Munich, and was traditionally used as a base malt for milds and
stouts (in the twentieth century), where it laid down a full, malty base to build upon.
Layer flavors Choose your ingredients so that each one contributes to the overall
effect. For a smooth, chocolatey mild ale, start with the mild ale malt I just mentioned,
where it gives a round richness similar to the sweet component of the chocolate
flavor. Add to that some amber/biscuit malt, also a traditional component of such
beers, for a toasty mocha flavor, sort of the mid-range of the chocolate taste. Top it off
with a small amount of smooth, roasty black, or Carafa malt to evoke the sharp
roastiness of bittersweet chocolate. One might automatically think of using chocolate
malt here, but I find this to be somewhat sharp and not particularly chocolatey in
character. The character of hops plays into this as well. I would use Northern brewer,
which has a certain chocolatey bitterness. Further, I would choose a yeast that
accentuates the sweetness of malt, such as the Fuller’s strain. Layered. Luscious.
There are endless subtle variations to this style, and there is no such thing as a definitive recipe. Feel free
to tweak any of the ingredients to make your own variation.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.045 (10.75 °P)
Alcohol: 3.7 to 4.3%
Color: Tawny amber
Bitterness: 37 IBU
Yeast: English ale
Maturation: 3 to 4 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.6 kg)
83%Maris Otter pale ale malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
11%pale crystal malt
0.25 lb (113 g)
6%biscuit/amber malt
Malt Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
4.75 lb (2.2 kg)
73%pale dry extract
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
11%pale crystal malt
0.25 lb (113 g)
16%biscuit/amber malt
Hops:
1.0 oz (28g)
90 minNorthdown (6.5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
30 minEast Kent Golding (5% AA)
0.5 oz (14g)
30 minEast Kent Golding (5% AA)
RECIPE
Tire-Biter Bitter
Boost the body A little more body and sweetness can make a beer drink bigger than it
really is. During World War I, the British were very interested in Belgian witbier
techniques, which at the time were turning out palatable beers with gravities around
1.025. They did this by mashing in, then draining off, all the enzyme-rich liquid and
boiling it, which denatured the enzymes; but preferentially leaving alpha amylase,
which would produce a poorly fermentable wort, resulting in the beer being somewhat
sweet and full-flavored.
There are a number of other, saner techniques for this. Mashing at higher
temperatures—155 to 158° F instead of 150° F—is one. Crystal malt and Carapils
(dextrin malt) are proven body-boosters. The judicious use of a little lactose can
enrich a beer. Adjuncts such as oat, wheat, or rye contain proteins and gummy
carbohydrates that can enhance body and head retention. Salt in small quantities (one-
eighth to one-half teaspoon per 5 gallons) will boost mouthfeel, a trick used by
brewers of gose beer, a light brew from eastern Germany. Many old brewing books
make the same claim for coriander, and indeed it does find its way into several very
light styles, although it has not been a regular feature of commercial British ales for
almost three hundred years.
Pay attention to condition Fortunately, fining and filtration are seldom necessary in
homebrewing, so the concern about stripping the life from our beers this way isn’t an
issue. Nonetheless, it’s especially important with this lighter sort of beer that they be
carbonated appropriately for the style, then served with a perfect layer of foam in the
correct glassware at an ideal temperature. Your pint beckons!
There is a historical precedent for the term blonde ale. Wouldn’t you know it’s French?
(NOT SO DUMB) BLONDE ALES
A blonde ale is the love child of India pale ale conjugated with a pale lager.
Lighter versions of burly pale ales called dinner ales or sparkling ales were brewed
from about 1860 to 1900. They were designed to be served fresh, without long aging,
and were light enough to be quenching and refreshing. As the American brewing
industry shifted into the hands of German immigrants familiar with the altbiers (ales)
of Cologne/Köln, brewers cast pale ales in a Continental mold rather than an English
one. To my mind, there is little theoretical difference between Kölsch, cream ale, and
blonde ale.
We are talking about a golden ale of moderate gravity with a smooth, sweet malt
character—not too much carameliness—modestly hopped, with a pleasant floral, non-
English hop bouquet. Top-fermenting yeast working at coolish temperatures (55 to
60° F) provides a kiss of fruitiness.
If beers could talk, many of the blondest would sound like this: “Hi, I’m like,
oooh... you’re so... heehee... giggle.”
Poor darlings. Cast off like orphans by thoughtless brewpubers who fling them in
the tanks at the last minute “to make the partners happy,” or to placate those pitiful
customers who “don’t know what good beer is,” blonde ales all too frequently are
perceived to lack deep inner beauty. This is a shame, because blonde beers can be as
deeply soulful as their brunette cousins, just as worthy of a lustful, longing well-
informed gaze.
So, fellow homebrewers, it is up to us, as usual, to take things into our own
hands, and brew beer the way it is supposed to be.
Much more than darker beers, the character of a blonde ale hangs on the quality
of the malt that forms the bulk of the grist. With nothing to mellow or obscure it, the
pale malt character jumps right out at you, and if the malt is not up to the challenge, it
may fall a little flat.
Such delicate beers offer scant cover for off-flavors. Cleanliness, sanitation, and
especially pitching adequate amounts of healthy yeast are crucial to a taste
unencumbered by annoyingly un-blonde flavors. You’ve been warned. Now that I’ve
told you how impossible it is, let me reassure you that it really isn’t all that difficult;
with just a few tricks and techniques you can brew a truly memorable blonde ale.
For those of you brewing all-grain beers, your best bet is either Belgian or
German Pilsener malt for a base. I wish I could say otherwise, but American malt just
doesn’t measure up. I have found it impossible to get the kind of intense-but-innocent
malt flavor from American malt. It takes European malts, grown and malted for beers
like this, to really deliver. I like to add Munich, Vienna, or pale crystal malts to richen
things up a bit, but it’s easy to overdo it and make the beer overly caramelly or too
dark. If you are using a really fine Pilsener malt, you need very little of those. A little
wheat (malted or unmalted) gives the head a foamy lift.
Water is key. Pale beers lack the acidity provided by dark malts, so the effects of
alkaline hard water become unpleasantly prominent, especially as the hop rate rises.
Either use soft water, or treat your carbonate water (see p. 55).
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.048 (13 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.3 to 4.9%
Color: Gold
Bitterness: 30 IBU
Yeast: Altbier or Kölsch
Maturation: 3 to 4 weeks
Procedure: Mash grains at 152° F (67° C) for an hour. If you want beer to be clear when chilled, add a
protein rest of 15 to 20 minutes at 122°F (50°C) first, but be aware that there may be a tradeoff in the
form of slightly less body and head retention. Sparge as usual. Boil for one hour. A longer boil will add
richness, but also color.
All-Grain Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.6 kg)80%
German/Belgian Pilsener malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)10%
German/Belgian Munich malt
0.5 lb (227 g)5%
pale crystal malt
0.5 lb (227 g)5%
wheat, flaked or malted
Malt Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
5.2 lb (2.4 kg)57%
extra pale dry extract
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)16%
German/Belgian Pilsener malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)16%
German/Belgian Munich malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)11%
pale crystal malt
RECIPE
Bambi’s Best Blonde Ale
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)
60 min
Crystal (or Hallertau type) (3.5% AA)
1.25 oz (35 g)
20 min
Crystal (or Hallertau type) (3.5% AA)
1.5 oz (42 g)
20 min
Saaz (3% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
end of boil
Crystal (or Hallertau type) (3.5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
end of boil
Saaz (3% AA)
I like to emphasize hop aroma over bitterness in these beers. I usually aim for 20
to 30 IBU in blonde ales, which gives you plenty of toothsome bitterness without
blowing out the delicate malt taste. Heaping up hops at the end of the boil will impart
a lovely hop aroma. Dry-hopping may be used, but these beers don’t need that much
aroma.
The choice of hops is pretty wide open, but the noble aromatic varieties make the
most elegant beers. Saaz, Tettnang, and the Hallertau clones such as crystal or
Vanguard all make delightful beers. Cascades will do a nice job as well, if you want
that American touch. I usually stay away from the high-alpha hops; their citrus/resiny
tastes overwhelm a delicate beer.
Develop extra flavor from processes. Brewer and owner Chuck Skypeck of
Bosco’s in Memphis has an unusual touch for his house blonde beer—it’s stone-
brewed. Hot glowing rocks are added to the brew kettle, where they throw a hissy fit.
The resulting caramelization adds a lovely layer of caramel to an already well-brewed
beer. Small wonder this is Bosco’s most popular beer.
In such a subtle beer as blonde ale, the choice of yeast plays an important role.
Pedigreed liquid brewing yeasts can accentuate malt or hops, sweeten or dry out a
beer, or add their own spicy, woody, or fruity flavors. My own tastes lean toward the
malt-accentuating character of a strain like Wyeast 1968 or White Labs WLP002,
which are the Fuller’s strain. Another good choice is, as you may have guessed, a
Kölsch yeast. But the choice is wide open and quite up to you.
Lower fermentation temperatures seem to bring out the best in the light, malty
character of a blonde, although some strains—like Fuller’s—may settle out and stop
working below about 65° F (18°C). I especially like to cold condition them, much as
they would in Germany, and this works wonderfully with the Kölsch yeast strains.
Good old ALE Makes beauty fresh: It causes love. It fools
dissension. It cheers the heart. It feeds the flesh: It lengthens
life. It’s death’s prevention. It makes a beggar seem a king.
Boys it hardens. Fools it sharpens. ALE so rare a thing.
— Inscription on an ale jug, circa 1900
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.048 (13 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 3.9 to 4.6%
Color: Pale gold
Bitterness: 43 IBU
Yeast: English ale
Maturation: 3 to 4 weeks
Mash grains at 146 to 148° F (63 to 64.5° C) for 90 minutes (the temperature is a little on the low side to
maximize fermentability). Mash out at 175° F (79.5° C), then sparge. Boil is one hour, with three hop
additions.
All-Grain Recipe:
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
62%Maris Otter pale ale malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
25%Pilsener malt
10.0 oz (283 g)
8%malted wheat
0.5 lb (227 g)
5%piloncillo, demerara or similar unrefined sugar, added to kettle
Malt Extract Recipe:
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)76%extra pale dry extract
RECIPE
Mister Squinty Contemporary Summer Ale
1.25 lb (0.55 kg)24%liquid wheat extract
Hops:
1.25 oz (35 g)
60 minChallenger (7.5 % AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
30 minChallenger (7.5 % AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
5 minChallenger (7.5 % AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
5 minSaaz (3% AA)
With English ale yeast, temperatures around 65° F (18° C) are recommended.
German Kölsch or alt yeast can handle relatively cool temperatures of 55 to 60° F. If
fermentation seems sluggish in this range, raise the temperature slightly. Rack to
secondary, allow to clear, and bottle or keg as usual. After carbonation has been
completed, lager for a few weeks at 33 to 40° F.
After that, there’s nothing but the waiting and the drinking.
A FLASH OF BRILLIANCE: BRITISH SUMMER ALE
A shaft of golden light rips through a thin patch of the blotchy white sky. On the
beach below, towels unfurl to reveal bumpy legs cased in vampire-white flesh that
broils to prawn pink in the hazy brilliance. Released from the dark closet of winter,
seekers young and old sit and squint, dazed, mole-like in the mossy sea air. It’s a
perfect summer day in England.
The moment begs for a perfect summer ale—crisp, dry, refreshing, but sturdy
enough to satisfy, a citric hop aroma leaping from a dazzling white meringue.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.065 (15.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.4 to 6.2%
Color: Gold
Bitterness: 53 IBU
Yeast: English ale
RECIPE
Summer Ale, What-if Version, c. 1830
Maturation: 8 to 10 weeks
Mash grains at 150 to 152° F (65.5 to 66.5° C) for 60 minutes. Mash out at 175° F (79.5° C), then sparge.
Boil is one hour, with two hop additions.
Either recipe can be fermented with your favorite ale yeast, although a hop-accentuating strain, such as
the one originating from Bass, might be just the thing here.
All-Grain Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)50%
Maris Otter pale ale malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)35%
Pilsener malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)8%
malted wheat
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)8%
piloncillo, demerara or similar unrefined sugar, added to kettle
Malt Extract Recipe:
3.75 lb (1.7 kg)56%
extra pale dry extract
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)29%
liquid wheat extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)15%
piloncillo, demerara or similar unrefined sugar, added to kettle
Hops & Spices:
2.5 oz (71 g)
60 minFuggles or Styrian Goldings hops (5.5% AA)
2.0 oz (56 g)
5 minEast Kent Goldings (5% AA)
0.25 oz (7 g)
5 mincrushed coriander
0.25 oz (7 g)
5 mincandied ginger
It’s not English, but it does kind of sum up the mood.
A style like this seems so right, so suited to the timeless cycle of the seasons, it’s
hard to believe summer ale is actually a modern creation, not yet twenty years old.
John Gilbert of Hop Back Brewery created his famous Summer Lightning in the late
1980s, and it remains the standard for this style.
Scottish sparkling ale bottle, c. 1900. This bottle was never opened!
Paler than most English bitters, summer ales are likely to be a little more
intensely hopped as well. Most versions hover between 4.5- and 5-percent alcohol.
Hops have center stage, with moderate to high bitterness backing up loads of fresh,
citric aroma. Late kettle additions, and perhaps even dry hopping, contribute to this
forward expression of hop personality. East Kent Goldings, with their spicy, resinous
aromas, have always been the hop of choice for top-grade British beers. Challenger is
a much more recently developed variety (1972), and with a flavor that’s described as
“fruity, almost scented, with spicy overtones,” it’s going to fit nicely into our recipe
for a contemporary summer ale.
It’s an easy beer to brew, although true excellence depends on top-flight
ingredients. A base of British pale ale malt is the place to start. Maris Otter is
generally regarded as the most nuanced in flavor, with light caramelly and nutlike
qualities. A dash of Pilsener malt will lighten the color and contribute a fresh, bright
maltiness. Use a little bit of unrefined sugar to add crispness without sacrificing
character, and top it off with a few percent of wheat malt that will help your beer
settle into a compact, creamy head.
The possibility also exists for “secret” ingredients. British law long forbade the
use of seasonings other than hops in commercial beers, a Reinheitsgebot of sorts. This
law was put into effect in 1710 as a reaction to the adulteration of beers with
substances (many of them toxic) intended to give beer an additional kick. Spiced beers
have a long history in Britain, and the use of seasonings such as coriander, ginger, and
grains of paradise continued in private breweries up to the mid-nineteenth century.
These particular spices blend extremely well with the kind of light, breezy beer we’re
talking about here, and feature in the second mock-historical brew I’ve concocted for
your amusement.
For both beers, soft water is preferred, as hard water will result in harsh hop
bitterness.
To make an extract version of either of these beers,
substitute 85 percent as much pale malt syrup as the total malt,
then toss a halfpound of crushed pale crystal into your kettle (in a
grain bag) and remove just before it gets to a boil. Sugar and
hop/spice additions remain as they are.
A SPARKLE IN YOUR ALE
Sparkling ale is a trade term for a bottled beer that seems to have originated in
Scotland as a somewhat lighter, more drinkable product than many of the brutally
strong ales of the day. The trend had begun in mid-eighteenth century London with
India pale ales, which then spread to, and were displaced by, beers from Burton-on-
Trent. Modest in gravity by the standards of the day, and hopped at double or even
triple the rate for more old-fashioned brews, these new-style beers fed a craving for
something happening and hip.
The Scots, never to be outpaced in the business arena, followed suit with their
own IPAs, plus a range of other styles including dinner ales, table beers, and various
lagers. Sparkling ale was being bottled and sold by Younger and McEwans and others
by at least 1885, and was exported in large quantities to America and the Empire.
Homegrown versions turned up around that time in the United States and in Australia,
where the beer still survives at Coopers and a couple of breweries in Adelaide. But,
alas, no longer in Scotland.
I must confess my recipe details are a bit sketchy. This is one of the great
frustrations of historical beer research. Old books often give great detail on mashing
heats and water quantities, but almost never give a cogent description of the beer
being brewed. Ingredients are described in trade terms that no longer exist. It’s just a
reflection of the fact that the books weren’t written for us. So, there’s going to be
some interpolation here.
The “sparkling” designation is applied only to bottled beers and seems to have
indicated a highly carbonated product. The Scots were pioneers in the bottle
manufacturing business, and by 1850 were turning out well-made stoneware bottles
capable of fairly high pressure.
“Fill with mingled cream and amber,
I will drain that glass again.
Such hilarious visions clamber
Through the chamber of my brain
Quaintest thoughts—queerest fancies
Come to life and fade away;
What care I how time advances?
I am drinking ale today.”
— Edgar Allan Poe
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.082 (19.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.6 to 6.4%
Color: Deep golden amber
Bitterness: 50 IBU
Yeast: Scottish ale
Maturation: 2 to 3 months
Mash slightly high at 154 to 155° F (68°C) for an hour. Raise to mash-out, 170 to 175° F (76.5 to 79.5°
C), then sparge. Add sugar to kettle. Boil 1.5 hours. Ferment with cold-tolerant yeast at 58 to 65° F (14.5
to 18.5° C) for primary, slightly lower for secondary, if possible. Try to age this beer for three months
before consuming.
All-Grain
RECIPE
Wee Twinkling Winkie Scottish Sparkling Ale
12.0 lb (5.5 kg) 86%
pale ale malt (English or Belgian preferred)
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 7%
German sour malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 7%
partially refined sugar: demerara, turbinado, piloncillo, jaggery, added to
kettle
Malt Extract + Styeeped Grain Recipe:
6.5 lb (2.9 kg)68.5%
pale malt extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 10.5%
German sour malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 10.5%
pale crystal malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 10.5%
partially refined sugar: demerara, turbinado, piloncillo, jaggery, added to
kettle
Hops:
1.5 oz (42.5 g)
90 min Kent Goldings (4% AA)
2.0 oz (56.5g)
30 min Kent Goldings (4% AA)
Let’s start with Scottish versions. My bottle of Wm. Younger Monk Brand, which
I’m estimating at 1885 to 1890, lists an alcohol percent of 8.25. The Wahl-Henius
Handy Book lists a 1901 version at 18.03 °B (1.075), with an alcohol by weight as
6.84 (8.6 percent by volume), so in those few years the gravity had dropped. A
version by McEwans comes in at a beefy 21.6° B (1.090) and 7.8-percent alcohol by
weight (9.6 percent by volume). Both show moderate amounts of lactic acid, 0.15
percent and 0.38 percent, respectively (contemporary lambics and Irish stouts both
were about 1.0 percent, by comparison), which suggests wood aging with some
Brettanomyces activity. This acid would have given these beers a refreshing tang that
can be easily achieved by the use of German sour malt or food-grade lactic acid. Hop
rates are elusive, but an “X” Scottish ale of similar gravity from mid-century came in
at 2.8 to 4.0 ounces per 5 gallons, which would have put it in the neighborhood of 40
to 60 IBU.
Scottish beers were invariably referred to as full-flavored.
This could have had a number of causes, one of which was
almost certainly a lower fermentation temperature, 5 to 10° F
below English beers on average. The Scots had a lager
tradition that began much earlier than in England, as well as a
much stronger bottled beer market.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.057 (13.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.2 to 4.8%
Color: Pale gold
Bitterness: 54 IBU
Yeast: American ale
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
Mash in at 122° F, hold for 30 minutes. Raise to 154° F (66° C), hold for 30 minutes. Raise to 162° F
(72° C), hold for 30 minutes, then sparge. Boil one hour. Ferment with lager yeast, primary at 44° F, then
lager for two to three months at 39° F (4° C). Bottle with slightly higher than normal amount of corn
sugar (three-fourths cup per 5 gallons).
All-Grain Recipe:
7.75 lb (3.5 kg)74%
U.S. six-row Pils malt
2.25 lb (1.0 kg)21%
flaked corn (in mash) or 1.5 lb corn sugar (added to kettle)
0.5 lb (227 g)5%
pale crystal malt
Malt Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
6.25 lb (2.8 kg)72%
pale dry extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)11%
pale crystal malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)17%
corn sugar, added to kettle
RECIPE
Telltale Ale—American Sparkling Ale
Cluster hops would have been used in the old days (use the same quantities as below). If you dislike
them as much as I do, use this mix instead:
1.0 oz (28 g)
60 minNorthern Brewer (7% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
60 minWillamette (7% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
20 minNorthern Brewer (7% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
20 minWillamette (7% AA)
Scotland had been trading enthusiastically with the north
countries for hundreds of years, and one of the prime goods
was beer. I think even the use of Monk’s Brand as a trade name
is a reference to Continental brewing tradition, as such
monastic references are rare in Britain. Machine-made bottles
that could stand up to higher pressure, cheaper sugar from the
Empire, and newly developed filtering equipment also
contributed to the craze for paler, crisper beers—India pale ale
and others—that began the century before in England.
In America, sparkling ale held a position between lager and stock ale, and was a
product designed to compete with the increasingly popular lager. Gravities were lower
than imported versions, around 14 °B (1.057), about the same as cream ale. The
difference was an extended lagering at 39° F. Three months is given as a typical aging
time. It is logical to think that German brewmasters would have added their own
touches to the ales they brewed. And for the sake of efficiency as well, production
was in accordance with mainstream U.S. lager brewing practice. As with most
American beers, a percentage (25 to 30) of corn grits or sugar was an integral part of
the style. Hop rates were 1 to 1.5 pounds per barrel, or 2.5 to 3.8 ounces per 5 gallons,
plenty hoppy at around 30 to 50 IBU. Three months’ lagering would knock the edges
off.
For both beers, soft water is preferred, as hard (especially carbonate) water will
result in harsh hop bitterness.
The bright pepperiness of rye is accentuated by the spice of traditional English hops here.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.065 (15.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.3 to 6.0%
Color: Deep gold
Bitterness: 43 IBU
Yeast: American ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 weeks
If you’re using unmalted rye, you’ll get more out of it if you grind it fine and cook it up like porridge
before adding it to your mash. A crockpot works well for this. Rye will make the mash sticky and
sluggish, so it’s especially important to keep the mash bed temperature above 160° F (71° C) during the
sparge.
RECIPE
Rye Pale Ale
All-Grain Recipe:
10.0 lb (4.5 kg)
80%pale ale malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
8%pale crystal malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
12%malted (preferred) or flaked rye
0.5 lb (227 g)
—rice hulls
Extract+ Mini-Mash Recipe:
5.0 lb (2.25 kg)
60%pale dry extract
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
18%malted (preferred) or flaked rye
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
11%US 6-row malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)11% pale crystal malt
0.5 lb (227 g)—rice hulls
Hops:
0.75 oz (21 g)
60 minFuggle (5% AA)
1 oz (28 g)
30 minChallenger (7.5% AA)
1 oz (28 g)
5 minChallenger (7.5% AA)
A standard infusion mash can be used, but a three-step approach will better deal with the rye. Mash in at
90°F/32°C, hold for 30 minutes; step up to 122°F/50°C, hold for 30 minutes; then step up to main mash, a
little low, at 147°F/64°C for 90 minutes.
Fifty-Fifty American Pale Ale By now, you should be able to brew this in your
sleep. The formula is simple. A good quality pale ale malt as a base, with something
caramelly like a pale crystal for color, offset perhaps by a bit of biscuit or very dark
crystal, plus a heaping of nice fresh Cascade hops—although you might be a devil and
perversely throw in some Chinook or other grapefruity high-alpha hops for aroma at
the end of the boil. Ferment it with the so-called Chico yeast (from Sierra Nevada,
Wyeast 1056, or White Labs WLP001) and you’ve got beer. Easy as pie and pure
heaven in a glass.
KICK-ASS IPAS
Don’t ya just love American beers these days? Having lost none of their
aggressive, in-your-face pugnaciousness, many now wrap that big personality in a
velvet glove, an elegance not much valued in the early “just gimme some hops” days
of the craft beer scene. And it’s the big, hoppy flagship beers, the beer the brewer
brews just because she (or he) likes it, that most often receive this extra finesse. First
among them are many lovely variations on the IPA theme.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.065 (15.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.3 to 6.0%
Color: Deep reddish-amber
Bitterness: 75 IBU
Yeast: American ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 weeks
The potent carameliness contributed by a big dollop of Munich malt and dark crystal allows us to add
even more hops and still maintain some sort of balance in this beer.
All-Grain Recipe:
6.5 lb (2.9 kg)
50%pale ale malt
5.0 lb (2.3 kg)
39%Munich malt
0.75 lb (0.34 kg)
6%medium crystal malt
0.5 lb (227 g)
4%dark crystal malt
2.0 oz (57 g)
1%black patent malt
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
6.5 lb (2.9 kg)50%pale dry extract
Plus: everything from the all-grain recipe except the pale malt
Hops:
RECIPE
IRA-India Red Ale
2.0 oz (57 g)
60 minCascade (6% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
30 minCascade (6% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
5 minGoldings (4% AA)
Of course, there’s nothing wrong with your basic India Pale Ale. This bright,
hoppy style created a smash in both its homelands—England and India—and forced a
lasting change in the brewing industry everywhere. It’s unquestionably a delightful
and historic drink. But one could make a case that IPA was a crucial step in the long
slide to lightness in the same way that, an NPR commentator said, “Chet Atkins ruined
country music,” by applying sophisticated arrangements and production techniques
into twangy hillbilly tearjerkers, leading to today’s bland pickup-truck pop. By
making dingy dark beers into something unfashionably déclassé, IPA stoked the thirst
for lighter and weaker products, and well, you know the rest of the story.
But that’s another debate, for another time—worthy of a few pints of gentlemanly
discussion at least.
As a platform for improvisation, IPA is a pretty good one. It’s a simple concept—
a pale, subtly malty base, not quite overwhelmed by fresh hops. Such an idea is robust
and timeless. No wonder it has satisfied the discriminating beer drinker for a couple of
hundred years now.
Of course we homebrewers are never content with the status quo—from whatever
era—and are always eager to break a few rules. So here is a handful of ways to
mangle and abuse the idea of India pale ale, yet still come up with something pretty
great to drink.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.060 (14.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.9 to 5.6%
Color: Bright amber
Bitterness: 49 IBU
Yeast: Belgian Ale
RECIPE
Belgian-American IPA
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
9.75 lb (4.4 kg)
87%Pilsener malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
13%pale crystal malt
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
5.75 lb (2.6 kg)
76%pale dry extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
16%medium crystal malt
Hops:
2.0 oz (57 g)
60 min
Liberty (4.5% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
30 min
Saaz (3% AA)
1.0 oz (57 g)
5 min
Saaz (3% AA)
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.076 (18 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 6.5 to 7.3%
Color: Deep gold
Bitterness: 63 IBU
Yeast: English ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
8.5 lb (3.9 kg)
70%English pale ale malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
17%jaggery, added to kettle
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
13%malted wheat
Extract+ Mini-Mash Recipe:
5.25 lb (2.4 kg)60%pale dry extract
RECIPE
Jaggery Pale Ale
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
23%jaggery, added to kettle
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
17%malted wheat
Hops & Spices:
2.25 oz (0.64 kg)
90 minNorthdown (5% AA)
4.0 oz (113 g)
5 minEast Kent Goldings (7.5% AA)
1.0 tsp (3 g)
5 minfenugreek (ground)
Belgian-American IPA This takes advantage of the grapefruity character of some of
the West Coast high-alpha hops, and expands on the theme. Start with a European
Pilsener malt, and add 10 percent of the kind of dark Munich malt called “aromatic.”
For hops, I would go with a mix of Saaz and one of the grapefruity U.S. hops such as
Chinook or Ahtanum. You might get really perverse and use the Saaz for bittering and
the U.S. hops for aroma. A twist—literally—in this recipe, would be to use grapefrut
peel, just the outer layer, shaved off a well-scrubbed grapefruit with a potato peeler
About half a grapefruit, prepared this way, should be added to the kettle at the end o
the boil. Ferment with your favorite Belgian yeast, but keep the temperature on the
low side to keep the Belgian character subdued.
Jaggery Pale Ale The East Indians treasure a beautifully
creamy, partially refined sugar made from the sap of certain
palm trees. Golden in color and congealed into blocks the size
and shape of a fez hat, jaggery resembles maple sugar in taste
and aroma, except perhaps with some buttery accents. Once
prohibition against the use of sugar in British beer was lifted
in 1847, jaggery, as well as other semirefined “concrete”
sugars from Jamaica, Cuba, and elsewhere, found their way
into the commercial beers of the day, so there’s some
historical basis for this. As with all fully fermentable sugars,
jaggery has the effect of lightening up the texture of a beer,
and add: nice soft caramelly maple notes.
Here, 17 percent of the recipe is jaggery, which may be
found at markets specializing in Indian foods. Just break it apart and add to the kettle.
If you want to get really adventurous, add a teaspoon or two of crushed fenugreek to
the secondary. Thi: spice, popular in Indian cuisine, has a delicate maple character,
and is, in fact, used ir pancake syrup for that very purpose. Here it will accentuate the
maple qualities of the jaggery and add a fruity depth to the beer.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.062 (15 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 6 to 7%
Color: Ravishing blonde
Bitterness: 50 IBU
Yeast: American lager or German altbier
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
Fermentation should be warmer than normal lager temperatures, around 62 to 65° F (16.5-18° C), with an
extended lagering period. Bottle or keg with fairly high carbonation.
All-Grain Recipe:
7.5 lb (3.4 kg)
74%U.S. Pilsener malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
19%Munich malt
0.75 lb (0.34 kg)
7%corn sugar, added to boil
Extract+ Mini-Mash Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)
75%pale dry extract
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
25%pale crystal
Hops:
1.5 oz (43 g)
60 minSpalt or Tettnang (4% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
30 minSpalt or Tettnang (4% AA)
3.0 oz (85 g)
5 minSpalt or Tettnang (4% AA)
RECIPE
Hinky Dink India Cream Ale
India Cream Ale The cream ale style is a kind of amalgam of the English-derived
American ale style, as brewed by German brewmasters in American lager breweries.
It’s my view that many of them simply applied their experience with German ales
such as Kölschbier, and voilà, Cream Ale. Some of the early brewery advertising
indicates that cream ales were often a blend of stock ale with lager, so this recipe has a
certain historical resonance. Clusters would have been used, at least for bittering, and
you can use them if you want, but I prefer the mix below, with a big load of them
added at the end of the boil. Ten percent malted wheat will provide a creamy texture
and lively head, and 10 percent corn sugar will lighten the body and keep the beer
crisp and refreshing, as well as true to history.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.085 (20.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 7.5 to 8.5%
Color: Deep gold
Bitterness: 90 IBU
Yeast: English ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 months
All-Grain Recipe:
14.0 lb (6.3 kg)
88%Maris Otter pale ale malt
2.0 lb (0.09 kg)
12%biscuit/amber malt
Extract+ Mini-Mash:
8.25 lb (3.7 kg)
85%pale dry extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
10%biscuit/amber malt
0.5 lb (227 g)
5%pale crystal
Hops:
3.0 oz (85 g)
60 minEast Kent Goldings (4% AA)
1.5 oz (43 g)
30 minEast Kent Goldings (4% AA)
5.0 oz (142 g)
5 minEast Kent Goldings (4% AA)
RECIPE
Vatted Stale IPA
Oak “Beans” from Stavin
Available in several woods and toast levels, these are a convenient way to give your ale
a dose of wood.
Vatted Stale IPA In the old days, strong beers were always aged in wooden vats,
often for extended periods of time. Under these conditions, certain wild yeast and
bacteria wiggle their way into the brew and make themselves at home in the crevices
in the wood. This “contamination” can make a valuable contribution to the beer in the
form of exotic musky, earthy, animal, and fruity aromas, and sometimes more than a
hint of acidity. “Stale” was the term used for this aged character, without the negative
connotations we have today. It’s a virtual certainty that most of the original IPAs had
some of this exotic character.
After fermenting through the primary with a conventional British ale yeast, add a
package of either mixed lambic-style culture, or some pure Brettanomyces to the
secondary. These are rather slow acting, and will take a few months to make a
difference. Note that the mixed culture will give you a fair amount of sourness, while
the bret alone will be less intense.
If you want to go the extra-authentic route and add some wood barrel character, a
good way to go is with small oak “beans” sold to wineries to revive tired barrels.
These are sold in several woods and degrees of toast by a company called Stavin
. Stay away from American oak, as it’s very sharp and pungent and
will overwhelm a beer pretty quickly. Just add a small handful of the beans during the
extended secondary.
With or without oak, the beer will show more “wild” character as the months
pass. It’s up to you to decide when it’s ready to carbonate and drink.
To this day, brown ale retains its anti-cachet as a somewhat backward and rustic
product.
BROWN IS BEAUTIFUL
Poor unloved brown ale. This often ignored style is a victim of our love of the
extreme, our need to be titillated, our contempt for the middle of the road. Once a
mainstay, brown ales were eclipsed first by darkness, in the case of porter, then
outshone by light in the great rush to blondness that began with pale ale itself, and hit
a wall one hundred and fifty years later with Miller’s aborted introduction of that
ultimate personification of pale—Clear Beer.
Part of it may be the name. Of all the sensuous descriptors applied to ales and
beers, “brown” is perhaps the least appetizing. While one can find the occasional
mention of the “nut-brown ales of old,” beers have in the past been far more often
described by their town of origin, strength, or even their effect on the drinker—
clamber skull, for example. Even if color is used as a style descriptor, amber or red is
the more common term. Perhaps there were so few beers that weren’t some shade or
another of brown, that the term seemed meaningless.
Even today, I find the commercial range of brown ales somewhat confusing.
British examples are often just slightly darker, lightly hopped versions of pale ales. As
a typically obtuse American, I am looking for something distinctively, unquestionably
brown in my brown ale. I want toast!
What we want is a certain round toastiness right in the middle of the range of
possible malt flavors, darker than pale or Munich malt, but much lighter than
chocolate. These middle range malts—amber and brown—used to be among the most
common malts in the brewer’s flavor kit. Briess makes an amber malt called Victory.
Continental maltsters tend to refer to it as “biscuit.” A few British maltsters also make
amber malt.
Engraved cobalt “rummer,” c. 1850
A perfect half-pint for dark beers.
You can also easily roast your own. Start with uncrushed pale or Pilsener malt,
and pop it into a 350° F (190° C) oven for thirty to forty-five minutes. Pull a few
grains out and taste them; they will taste much darker than they look. You want a rosy
pale copper color, although nutty, toasty flavors start to come in when the malt just
starts to turn in color. By the time it is a deep copper, sharp roasty notes inappropriate
to brown ale start to develop. Do this a couple of weeks in advance to allow harsh
flavors to mellow before brewing. Dry roasting gives the toastiest flavors; moist-
roasted malt tends to develop softer, more caramelly notes. See p. 224 for more on
this.
How much to use? A quarter-pound of amber malt per gallon will start to get the
toasty brown ale thing going, but you can use much more. I like about three-quarters
of a pound per gallon for a rich toastiness and solid brown color. I have found lots of
variation between commercial amber malts, and the home roasted ones are all over the
map, so this is a fertile area for exploration.
Hopping should be for balance and little else. The traditional hops used in darker
beers were Fuggles, but any vaguely English hop is worth trying. Northdowns are
nice, and I like WGV or Challenger here as well. Avoid anything overly resiny, and
keep the hopping to the early and mid stages of the boil.
Yeast and fermentation also affect the flavor. I find the estery, woody, sulfury
yeasts so fine for pale ales fall flat on browns. My choice is malt-accentuating yeasts
such as Scottish ale or the Fuller’s strain (Wyeast London ESB), especially at cooler
temperatures.
To hell with watered down “session” pints, let’s have a real beer!
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.067 (16 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5 to 5.8%
Color: Brownish amber
Bitterness: 26 IBU
Yeast: English ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 weeks
For a wacky twist, add a cup of lightly toasted walnuts or pecans, finely ground, to the mash. Be sure to
protect the beer from marauding squirrels.
All-Grain Recipe:
8.5 lb (3.9 kg)
65%mild ale malt
4.0 lb (1.8 g)
12%biscuit/amber malt
0.5 lb (227 g)
4%brown ale malt
Extract+ Mini-Mash Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)
67%amber dry extract
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
22%biscuit/amber malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
11%medium crystal
Hops:
0.75 oz (21 g)
90 minNorthern Brewer (7% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
20 minNorthdown (6.5% AA)
RECIPE
Old Nut Case Brown Ale
Mash or extract brews: mash with 1 quart of water per pound of malt at 157° F (69.5° C) for 45 minutes,
then raise immediately to 170° F (76.5° C) by heating or adding boiling water to stop conversion.
Carbonation should be light, or serve as real draught ale.
Intire Butt Beer, or, a Taste of Real Porter
And what this flood of deeper brown,
Which a white foam does also crown,
Less white than snow, more white than mortar?
Oh, my soul! can this be Porter?
— The Dèjeuné
PORTER
The story of porter is the chronicle of the Industrial Revolution as it applied to
beer. The tale follows the rise of steam power, coal smoke, and the rapid expansion of
eighteenth-century Imperial Britain. Although today Britain is better known for pale
ale, it was porter that turned beer from a craft into an industry.
Porter never stayed the same thing for more than one generation. This is the
difficulty one encounters when trying to pin down the style. To add confusion, porter
actually died out completely in its home country in the late seventies, leaving its close
relative, stout, to carry on the family name.
Contemporary porters vary hugely in color, bitterness, gravity, and flavor, and
occupy every bit of the territory between brown ale and stout. The official judging
categories have settled into a lighter brown porter and a heavier robust version, but
from my reading of history, this is somewhat arbitrary.
Few products have such a definite beginning, even if it is a myth. Porter, the story
goes, was created in the autumn of 1722, the brainchild of Ralph Harwood, who
owned the Bell Brewery in Shoreditch, London. Patrons of London establishments
had grown fond of a blended concoction called “three threads,” formed from equal
parts of mild (young) and stale (aged) brown ale, and a sweetish pale ale called
twopenny, the last remnant of the old unhopped ale (although by this time it did have
some hops in it). The new brew, originally named Mr. Harwood’s Entire, or Entire
Butt, quickly became a favorite of the porters who lugged vast amounts of goods
about town, so the beer was eventually named after them. A full piercing of this bit of
lore may be found in Martyn Cornell’s excellent book, Beer: the Story of the Pint
(Headline, London).
The real story starts earlier. In 1689, a war with France occasioned a rise in taxes
affecting brewers: on malt, on hops, on coal, and on the beers themselves. As it
shifted the economics from one sort of beer to another, it generated a churning of
brewing styles, with a lot of competition as brewers sought an equilibrium in the form
of a product that made sense all around. As the relative expense of hops came down,
their use went up. And what else was going on in London about this time? Well, gee,
the whole place burned down in 1666, so the place was a hive of activity while it tried
to rebuild.
“...for we see no Men in England more healthy than the
Country Farmer, who keeps a cup of good brown Ale and a
Toast, and temperately will drink a Glass of Stout.”
— Edward Whitaker, 1692
Around the same time, many of the gentry from the
hinterlands were coming to London to live, bringing with
them a taste for the highly hopped “October” beers brewed
on their estates, and were having public brewers custom-
brew this for their use. Commercial breweries were still
small at this point—in 1740, a 30-barrel brew kettle was
referred to as a “great copper.”
One of the ancestors of porter was butt beer. Butts were large casks set upright
rather than on their sides like hogsheads and other smaller casks. “The butt is
certainly a most noble cask for this use...”
In his 1734 London and Country Brewer, William Ellis describes several of the
beers then (and for some time before) brewed from brown malt. These were sold in
several strengths:
Beer Type
Qty per qtr*
Price Hopping
Homebrew equivalent
Stout Butt Beer
1 bbl/qtr
30’Heavily hopped ≥ 3.5 lbs/Hogshead
6.5 oz/5 gal
Stitch
1.25 bbl/qtr
21’Lightly hopped
1-2 oz/5 gal
Common Brown Ale
2.75 bbl/qtr
16’1 lb/Hogshead**
2 oz/5 gal
Entire Small beer
5-6 bbl/qtr
7-8’1/2 -1 lb/Hogshead
1-2 oz/5 gal
*Quarter of malt, equal to 336 lb ** Whitaker, 1700: “ordinary strong beer beer to be soon Drank out...’”
In addition to the various gravities, some of the beers were aged at the brewery
for up to a year, acquiring a sharp, vinous mature taste. This was called “stale,” with
out the pejorative connotation we now attach to the word. “Mild” beer was shipped to
the pubs without extended aging.
In its early days, there were two innovations that made porter unique. First was
the use of a type of specialty malt from Hertfordshire called brown malt, which
became available in London after the construction of a network of canals in the
seventeenth century. This brown malt was the key ingredient in a range of brown
beers that became quite popular in London before the “official” birth of porter. The
second innovation was the use of “entire” brewing. Previously, most beers had been
brewed by mashing, then draining the mash for the first runnings, then mashing again
with the same grains for second runnings and a second beer, then sometimes for a
third time, which produced a small beer. The idea of mixing the runnings together was
not new at this time, but porter was the first successful beer brewed this way. This
method offered huge advantages in an industrial setting, and the brewers of
eighteenth-century London were quick to realize this. Porter spread like wildfire.
The deep copper color of brown malt, 75 to 150 °Lovibond, is much lighter than
our chocolate malt. It came in two varieties, one kilned conventionally, and another
called “blown” that was torrefied by rapid heating, giving it a puffed appearance. The
old books generally do not make a huge distinction between the two, but according to
Richardson (the brewmaster for Whitbread), the blown malt had a lower yield, which
was the primary reason for its demise. Some brown malt was kilned over oak or
hornbeam, although much of it was kilned with coal or coke. Although smoky flavors
are delicious in porter, most of the early authors make it clear that they have no
fondness for the rude tinge of “smoak,” and were only too happy to leave it behind.
“The Stronger Beere is divided into two parts (viz.), mild and
stale; the first may ease a man of a draught, but the latter is
like water cast into a Smith’s forge, and breeds more
heartburnings, as rust eates into Iron, so overstale Beere
gnawes aulet holes into the entrales, or else my skill failes,
and what I have written of it is to be held as a jest.”
— The Water Poet (John Taylor), 1580-1654
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.082 (19.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 6 to 7%
Color: Deep chestnut brown
Bitterness: 69 IBU
Yeast: English stout
Maturation: 6 to 12 months
All-Grain Recipe:
15 lbs (7.3 kg)
86%brown malt
2.5 lbs (0.9 kg)
14%6-row lager malt
No Comparable Extract Recipe
Hops & Spices:
3 oz (85 g)
Fuggle90 min (5% AA)
2 oz (85 g)
Fuggle15 min (5% AA)
RECIPE
Stout Butt Beer, 1720
Originally, this beer would have been brewed from 100% brown malt. Six-row malt was added to ensure
conversion. If you can’t find brown malt, it can be made at home—see
Mash fairly high at 154° F
(68° C) for 90 minutes. This can be served relatively fresh, or allowed to age up to a year. Follow
directions on
for brettanomyces and/or oak-aging.
1850: “For brown or porter malt, the grain is placed to the depth of
about half-an-inch on the floor of the kiln, which, in this case,
usually consists of perforated iron or wire network, while a strong,
blazing fire, produced by the ignition of faggots of wood, is applied
below. During this process, the temperature rapidly rises to 180°F,
or higher; a portion of the starch and sugar of the malt become
carbonized, while, as some allege, the pyroligneous acid and other
products evolved from the burning wood, impart to the malt that
peculiar flavor so much esteemed by the porter drinker.”
— William Loftus, 1850
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.062 (15 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.6 to 5.5%
Color: Deep chestnut brown
Bitterness: 69 IBU
Yeast: English stout
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
4.5 lb (2.0 kg)33%English pale ale malt
RECIPE
1776 Porter
4.5 lb (2.0 kg)
33%biscuit/amber malt
4.5 lb (2.0 kg)
33%brown malt
No Comparable Extract Recipe
Hops & Spices:
3-4 oz (85—ll3 g)
Fuggle or Golding hops (55-70 IBU), treated as below
0.25 oz (7.0 g)
licorice root, ground, added to kettle
0.25 oz (7.0 g)
brewers’ licorice, added to kettle.
Start by soaking the hops in 160° F (71° C) water. Mash the malt at 156° F (69° C) for one hour, then
sparge. Take a half-gallon of the first wort and put into your boil kettle without any hops. Boil vigorously
until reduced to a thick syrup. Continue cooking slowly, watching very carefully, tasting the goo every
couple of minutes (Be careful, it is very hot). You are trying to get it as dark as possible before it starts to
burn. When you judge it to be done, turn the rest of the hot wort into the kettle, add the hop infusion, and
boil for an hour and a half.
Fermentation in the large breweries was traditionally at very warm temperatures, up to 80 degrees or
more, although home breweries were more likely to be in the 65 to 70° F (18.5 to 21° C) range. This beer
was sold both fresh and stale. See the recipe for Vatted Stale IPA for the technique.
By the late eighteenth century, pale and amber became part of the mix along with
colorants of various kinds, especially cooked sugar. The most common colorant was
“essentia bina,” a dark sugar made from boiling down first wort (or sometimes sugar)
until very dark. The legality of these colorants changed a couple of times, but the
issue was moot when black patent malt was invented in 1817. This was the subject of
passionate feelings among brewers and drinkers alike. The more conservative purists
holding out for more traditional brews than the gigantic Whitbread, Barclay’s, and
Truman’s had all switched to patent malt by 1826. John Tuck, in 1822, said,“To say
the truth, there is little left of porter but the name; and indeed the taste of the public is
so changed, that very few would be found to fancy its original flavour.”
Porter was always a bitter drink, and with a tax on hops, brewers (or their
bookkeepers) were always looking for a loophole. Even though bittering substances
other than hops had been banned since 1710, this didn’t stop the wacky common
brewers of London, who put all manner of noxious chemicals in porter to either make
it cheaper or to give it an unnatural kick. The government spent a lot of time tracking
down and fining the offending brewers and druggists who sold to them, and by 1820
things were pretty well cleaned up.
One wholesome seasoning was licorice, in both the root form and in a material
called “Spanish juice” (also called Italian juice), which was licorice root boiled down
to the form of golden strings of syrup that were left to cool and harden. One book
stated with great conviction that licorice was essential to the flavor of well-brewed
porter, but there never was a time when this was condoned by the government.
LOFTUS THE BREWER: A Familiar Treatise on the ART OF BREWING, 1863:
“The qualities which characterize what would be termed good porter or
stout, in the present condition of the public taste, are—a light, brown
color, fullness on the palate, pure and moderate bitterness, with a
mixture of sweetness, a certain sharpness or acerbity without sourness
or burnt flavor, and a close, creamy head, instantly closing in when
blown aside, a tart and astringent flavor.”
“Porter and Stout are now prepared almost exclusively from pale and
roasted malts, the use of brown and amber malt being confined to a few
of the most extensive and best known porter breweries. But although on
the score of economy and simplicity there is an advantage in brewing
form pale and black malt only, it cannot be doubted, judging from the
practice of the great porter-brewers, that to obtain the true porter flavor,
a certain proportion of amber or slightly scorched malt should enter into
the composition of the grist.”
“Porter, brewed for exportation, with 10 lbs. or 11 lbs. of hops per
quarter of malt, has a density of from 1069 to 1089 [16.5-21 °P]. Prior
to shipment, it ought to be vatted ten or twelve months; and as the
motion of the ship and the heat are apt to set it at work again, it is
necessary to flatten it before final racking, by leaving the man-hole open
for three weeks.”
London Porter Bottles, c. 1840
Even then, porter was a brisk transatlantic trade item.
The gravities (based on an efficiency of 80 percent) on the following page show
the decline.
Brewing was accomplished in the form of an infusion mash, with three additions
of water, which were mashed, drained, and boiled separately. My 1822 source lists tap
heat (draining wort) at 150° F (65.5° C), so initial mash temperature must have been
higher at 154 to 156° F (67 to 68° C).
Porter Gravities, 1725-1887
YearLb/5 g
OG
Hops oz/g per 5 gal
1725 (Stout Butt)39
1100?
3.2/91 g
172519-29
1082-1096
1.2/34 g
176017-19
1069-1082
3.8/108 g
1780-180011-13
1054-1063
4-7/113-198 g
1800-183011
1054-1065*
3.4-5.4/96-153 g
1850 (London)na
1056-1067
6.5-7.4/184-210 g
1850 (Export)12-16
1069-1078
5.8-8.3/164-235 g
1887 (American)na
1056-1075
3.2/91 g
*Higher number reflects improved yield from switch to patent + pale malt
Note that the hop data is a little jittery because there are a limited number of sources from which to draw. Hop use does seem to peak around 1850,
though.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.070 (16.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.5 to 6.5%
Color: Near black
Bitterness: 39 IBU
Yeast: English stout
Maturation: 8 to 12 weeks for mild; 6 to 12 months for “stale”
All-Grain Recipe:
9.5 lb (4.3 kg)
73%pale ale malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
15%biscuit/amber malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
8%black patent malt
0.5 lb (227 g)
4%sour malt
No Comparable Extract Recipe
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)
90 minFuggles (5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
20 minFuggles (5% AA)
1.25 oz (35 g)
5 minFuggles (5% AA)
English brewers of this era aged their strong porters up to a year before releasing, and the sour malt
included in the recipe gives a hint of this tangy flavor. A more authentic touch would be to add some
RECIPE
1850 Export Porter
Brettanomyces and even some Pediococcus to your batch, to recreate the effects of extended aging in
wooden barrels. Mixed lambic culture offers an easy way to do this. An option would be to ferment only
a gallon or so with the wild stuff, and add it to the rest of the beer at bottling or kegging. This technique
continues today with Guinness.
Hops were presoaked in 160° F (71° C) water during the mash before being
added to the boil, to aid in extracting flavor and bitterness. This soaking was allowed
to go on as long as four hours. A pint per ounce of hops was the recommended
quantity of hot water. The whole thing was dumped into the kettle when the wort
came to a boil. This has much in common with the much discussed “first wort”
hopping, which creates a more intense hop flavor than by simply adding hops to the
boil.
Porter eventually died out completely in England. In various forms, it lived on in
America and the Baltic region. Once hugely popular here, the U.S. versions eventually
deteriorated into thin, brownish lagers. In Poland and nearby countries, a strong
brown lager version exists today, perhaps offering a tantalizing hint of what the
original beefy brown beer might have been like.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.038 (9 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 3.5 to 4%
Color: Chestnut brown
Bitterness: 25 IBU
Yeast: English stout
Maturation: 3 to 5 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
5.5 lb (2.5 kg)
81%British pale ale malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
13.5%very dark (140°L) crystal malt
0.25 lb (113 g)
4%wheat/wheat malt
RECIPE
Modern British Mild or Brown Porter
2.5 oz (71 g)2%black patent malt
Extract+ Mini-Mash Recipe:
3.5 lb (1.6 kg)
72%amber dry extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
20%very dark (140°L) crystal malt
0.25 lb (113 g)
5%wheat/wheat malt
2.5 oz (71 g)
3%black patent malt
Hops:
0.25 oz (7 g)
90 minNorthdown (6.5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
5 minFuggles (5% AA)
Wagner, 1877 (Handbuch der Bierbrauerei), Porter Formulas
PaleAmber
BrownBlack
—95%
—5%
48%24%
24%4%
57%15%
25%3%
58%10%
30%2%
60%—
34%6%
91%
—
—
9%
You can see that there were (and still are) many ways to approach the creation of porter. He gives hop quantities at 6.7
ounces (190 grams) per 5 gallons (19 liters), which is in line with the sources above.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.055 (13 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.5 to 5.2%
Color: Dark brown, 37 °SRM
Bitterness: 28 IBU
Yeast: English stout or American ale
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
Although it’s in the judging style guidelines, this is kind of an arbitrary, or at least historically unattached,
style. Homebrew and commercial versions may be much more bitter than the recipe detailed here, so if
you’re a hophead, you can double the hop quantities.
All-Grain Recipe
6.25 lb (2.8 kg)
64.5%pale ale malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
20%Munich malt
1.25 lb (0.56 kg)
12.5%medium (40°L) crystal
6.0 oz (170 g)
3%black patent malt
Extract+ Mini-Mash Recipe
5.5 lb (2.5 kg)
72%amber dry extract
1.25 lb (0.56 kg)
12.5%medium (40°L) crystal
6.0 oz (170 g)
3%black patent malt
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)
90 minFuggles (5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
20 minFuggles (5% AA)
0.25 oz (7 g)
20 minGoldings (5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
5 minGoldings (5% AA)
RECIPE
Modern American ‘Robust’ Porter
A Beer Called Cooper
“A favourite mixture of modern Londoners is known by the name
of “Cooper,” and consists of porter and stout in equal
proportions. The best account of the origin of this name is one
which attributes it to a publican by the name of Cooper, who kept
a house in Broad Street, City, opposite to where the Excise Office
stood. Cooper was a jolly, talkative host, and associated a good
deal with his customers—principally officers of the Excise,
bankers’ and merchants’ clerks, and men of that stamp. His guests
found on bits of broken plates, pieces of beef steak and mutton
chops already priced with paper labels. These they had but to
choose, mark their name on the ticket, and carry to the cook at the
grid-iron, which was in the room in which they dined. Cooper
drank and recommended a mixture of porter and stout, the fame of
which spread very rapidly. The combination became the fashion
in the City, and finally it was brewed entire.”
— John Bickerdyke, 1889
TWELVE WAYS TO IMPROVE A STRUT
I imagine we’ve all had the experience. We are offered a stout. A thick, beautiful
head floats atop the inky juice, making an artful eyeful. We sniff, then sip, and the
search for adjectives begins.
“Hmmm. Roasty. And dark. And, um roasty. Did I mention it was roasty?”
And so it often goes, even with our own homebrewed stouts. This popular style
often lacks the depth and dimension it needs. Because it is so easy to get into the
ballpark—just add a pound of black malt or roasted barley to any recipe—it is hard to
know what to do to make our stouts stand out. Here are a few suggestions, some
traditional, some fairly deranged.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.060 (14.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.9 to 5.6%
Color: Inky black
Bitterness: 39 IBU
Yeast: English stout or American ale
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
9.5 lb (4.3 kg)84%
mild ale malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)8%
black patent malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)8%
dark crystal malt
Extract+ Mini-Mash Recipe:
5.5 lb (2.5 kg)74%
amber dry extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)13%
black patent malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)13%
dark crystal malt
Hops:
1.5 oz (43 g)
90 minFuggles (5% AA)
1.5 oz (43 g)
15 minFuggles (5% AA)
RECIPE
Fundamental Stout—Base Recipe
1. Weird grain British brewers rely on what used to be called “head grains,” to
improve the head-forming abilities of their beers. In fact, those grains were used
abundantly by brewers a few hundred years ago. In quantities of 5 to 10 percent they
will indeed boost a head; in larger amounts they will contribute their own quality to a
beer. Both wheat and oats tend to soften a beer’s character, blunting the sharpness of
the roasted grains. Oats seem to have a thickening effect, giving any beer a milkshake-
like richness without sweetening it. I have used flaked, unmalted wheat from the
health food store in amounts up to 40 percent without adverse effects on the sparge.
Oatmeal will get gummy on you, so 10 percent or below is most manageable. If
you’re using these grains in a mini-mash, be sure to add equal amounts of pale, or
better, six-row lager malt to convert the starches. A protein rest of thirty to sixty
minutes at 122° F (50° C) seems to help, too. Other grains should contribute their own
complexities, and everything has been used in beer at some time and place: millet,
buckwheat, quinoa, spelt, rye, and wild rice.
2. Syrups In colonial America, brewers often made a substance called beer simply
from molasses, oat bran, and hops. While this may have satisfied George
Washington’s servants, we can do better with the stuff. Molasses adds a unique
sourish, rumlike character to stout that can be quite satisfying. Adding various sugar
syrups is a good way to make a stronger beer that is dry enough to be drinkable, as is
the case with abbey triples. Syrups may be added directly to the brew kettle, although
delicate aromas may be best preserved by adding them to the secondary, as one would
fruit. I have not yet tasted a honey stout, but this may be a good opportunity to a
stronger-tasting variety such as buckwheat.
3. Hop character Although the yapping lapdogs of style appropriateness will tell you
that hop character has no place in a proper stout, it is our job as homebrewers to
thumb our beer-soaked noses at such dogma. Hop character can indeed be a good
thing in a stout. Try the kind of hop schedule you might apply to an IPA—dry
hopping, the whole works.
4. The 3 percent factor Guinness uses a secret potion in their stouts that is made by
deliberately souring some of their beer. When added in small amounts to the stout, it
confers a lactic tanginess that makes their products absolutely unique. Technically,
this is a difficult thing to do, although commercial cultures are available to
homebrewers. Hold out a quart or three of beer and experiment. Hint: lactobacillus is
happiest at higher temperatures, so incubate at 85° F (29.5° C) or so. You might try
one of the commercially packaged lambic microbes such as Pediococcus damnosis or
one of the Brettanomyces wild yeasts. It will probably be best to pasteurize these
errant cultures before adding them back to the main brew. Or, simply add a tablespoon
of 80 percent lactic acid, sometimes available at homebrew shops. A simpler approach
would be to use a pound or two of sour malt, available from many German maltsters.
5. Smoked grain The intensity of smoked grain is far less intrusive in stouts than in
paler beers, and actually adds a nice complexity. These can be added in very small
amounts, an ounce or two, just to add a subtle depth to the roast character. Or, you can
add a pound or two for the full effect. Peat-smoked Scottish distiller’s malt and
beechwood-smoked German rauchmalz are available commercially, or you can smoke
your own in a barbecue with the wood of your choice. See
for more detail.
6. Crystal malt One of the most common deficiencies of stouts is not having enough
malt character. Think of your stout as a paler beer that happens to have a load of dark
malt in it. Try to add the richness that you might look for in a fine Oktoberfest. Even
though you may not see it in your final beer, you sure will taste it! Crystal is the malt
of choice if you’re doing mini-mashes to add to extract beers. Its sugars are already in
a converted and soluble form, so all you need to do is soak the cracked crystal malt in
hot water to dissolve, then strain and add to the pot.
7. Oddball roasted grains Fire up the oven! You can make all kinds of roasted grain
you can’t buy at the homebrew shop. Wheat, oats, buckwheat, and other grains can be
toasted, and each can lend a unique twist to your stout. I especially love the taste of
toasted oats, the same intoxicating aroma created by baking oatmeal cookies. This
aroma carries through well into the fermented beer, lending an unforgettable richness
to your stout. Toast at 350° F (177° C) until oats are starting to turn golden and the
kitchen smells like cookies. One note on home-roasted grain: various harsh chemicals
are created during roasting that make beer unpleasantly rough and slow to clear.
Allow two weeks for these to waft away between roasting and brewing.
8. Amber and brown malt Traditionally, two types of grains were used to brew
porter (stout’s cousin) in the eighteenth century. These malts were the only legal
source of color in black beers before the 1817 invention of black “patent” malt. These
taste very different than modern malt types such as crystal, and can add tremendous
complexity. You could use up to half a recipe of either one, or possibly even more.
9. Mild ale malt If you’re mashing, this poor forgotten malt can do a lot for you. Mild
is a slightly higher kilned malt than pale, and will brew an amber beer if used all by
itself. Traditionally the highest grade of malt was reserved for making pale malt, and
everything else was turned into mild and darker malts. Pale malt was used only to
make pale ale where its clean flavor and extremely low protein were essential. Mild
was used in the production of darker beers, where it lent a caramelly sweetness that
played against the bitter intensity of the brown and black malts. It is still sometimes
available; if you can’t find it, Vienna or Munich malt might be a passable substitute.
10. Spices and herbs In past times all beers were herb beers. In stout, I like cloves,
cassia, rosemary, black pepper, grains of paradise (an African cardamom relative),
coriander, and orange peel. Quantities range from a quarter-teaspoon (rosemary, black
pepper, grains of paradise) to 1 to 2 ounces (28 to 57 grams) of coriander. Cayenne
pepper was also a common additive, as were ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Cocoa
can be used to add a chocolatey smoothness. Spices may be added at the end of the
boil, to the secondary, or steeped in vodka before adding at bottling or kegging.
11. Coffee With a similar roasting process to black malt, coffee makes a nice change
of pace in a stout. The best way to use it is with a cold extraction (see above). Four to
8 ounces (113 to 227 g) of coffee will season a batch.
12. Wood Aging This was the norm during the heyday of porter and stout, and has
only been replaced by less troublesome methods in the last hundred years. Dealing
with barrels is a little problematic. Small barrels have too much surface area, which
tends to add too much wood character, and big barrels obviously require a lot of beer.
Whiskey—specifically, used bourbon—barrels are the modern norm for wood-aged
beers, and such a beer can be a great group project (see p. 280). Wood or even
bourbon-wood character can be imparted through the use of chips or “beans” of oak
added to the beer as it ages in the carboy. Winemakers have a range of products
available (see p. 91). For bourbon character, you’ll have to do a little prep work, but
you’ll be rewarded for your patience with a bottle of custom-aged bourbon. Oh, and
yes, a great stout, too.
Buy a bottle of basic bourbon. Take two or three pieces of white oak about as big
as your finger, and burn them with a torch until they are deeply charred. After
removing (and drinking) a little of the whiskey in order to make room, plop the sticks
into the bottle, put the cap back on, and allow it to sit for six months to a year. In the
meantime you can brew a serious stout. Add the sticks to the secondary and let it age
like this for a few more months. Then bottle or keg as usual.
Coffee—Cold Extraction
This is a way of getting very smooth coffee flavor to add to your beer. Add
0.5 lb (0.45 kg) ground coffee to 24 ounces of cold filtered water in a
sanitized container. Allow this to sit in the refrigerator for 24 hours, then run
the mixture through a coffee filter. All or part of this extract (see below) may
be added to your stout.
Chapter 8
L
AGER
O
N!
L
ager is one of the two great families
of beer. Lower
fermentation temperatures suppress much of the fruity and spicy chemicals yeast
produces at warmer temperatures. This allows the pure, clean flavors of malt and hops
to shine through. Since there is nothing to hide behind, lagers can require a little more
brewing discipline, but there is no reason for them to be intimidating. Solid brewing
practice combined with good temperature control can make this a deliciously
rewarding range of beers to brew.
THE WISDOM OF A PERFECT PILSENER
If you love the convenience of a crisp, refreshing
pale lager never being more than a pop-top away whether
you’re in Springfield or the Serengeti, you can thank the
brewers of Plzen (Pilsen), who, in 1842, created what
would go on to become the world’s most popular beer
style. If, on the other hand, you hate the tongue-numbing
blandness that characterizes most of the tin-can lagers,
well, technically the idea started in Plzen, but I think the
blame lies with a combination of corporate hungers and
consumer thirsts.
The real stuff—fresh from the tanks—is pure delight,
and for the homebrewer, it’s a true challenge of skills, senses, and attention to detail.
A Pilsener is simplicity itself: one kind of malt, one kind of hops, and pure water.
Nothing to hide behind—an “itsy bitsy teenie weenie bikini” as far as showing off the
faults and foibles that a rowdy amber ale wrapped in crystal and Cascades will utterly
conceal. It’s a terrifying thought, this nakedness—and it scares brewers more than it
should.
Pilsener is brewed in a wide range of interpretations, and of course most of the
industrial versions bear little resemblance to the golden nectar of Plzen. The best
Czech versions have a burnished golden color, a soft maltiness, and just a hint of
creamy caramel. Balancing that is the crisp, minty, herbal character of Saaz hops, with
no trace of rough or resiny flavors despite considerable bitterness.
A few thoughts on what’s important and what’s not:
1. Use appropriate ingredients Pilsener malt from Europe is a must; ultra-authentic
Moravian malt from the Czech Republic is available for the sticklers. Saaz hops have
a unique spicy/herbal aroma, although the U.S.-grown variety Sterling is very similar
(although higher in alpha acid) and makes a great Pils. A variety called Ultra is lovely
if you can find it. Tettnang hops are related to Saaz and have a similar flavor profile.
Whole hops seem to have a cleaner flavor than pellets, as the pelletizing process
smashes the plant’s cells, spilling some green, chlorophyll-like flavors into the beers.
2. Water is a key element, not just marketing fodder
Plzen’s water is the softest in the brewing world, with few
minerals of any kind. The lack of alkalinity (carbonates)
means the hop bitterness is superbly clean and crisp,
without the raspy aftertaste that accompanies bitter beers
made with hard carbonate water. To be authentic you need
to use distilled water. For those of you scientifically
treating your water, the PPM levels of all the common
water minerals in Plzen’s water is in the mid-to high
single digits.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.048 (11.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.1 to 4.8%
Color: Straw gold
Bitterness: 43 IBU
Yeast: Czech lager
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
RECIPE
Polka Dot Pilsener
I suggest that you make a Pils style ale if you can’t manage the kind of temperature control needed for
true lager. Another nice variation is to up the ante and increase the quantities of everything. An extra 10
to 20 percent of malt will get you to 1.053 to 1.060 (12.51 to 14.5° P) which is export range, probably not
out of line with nineteenth century versions.
All-Grain Recipe:
9.0 lb (4.02 kg)Moravian Pilsener malt (fully modified)
Extract Recipe:
5.5 lb (2.5 kg)pale dry extract (best quality you can find)
Thick mash (1.25 quarts of water per pound or .53 liters per kilogram). First rest at 131° F (55° C), 30
minutes. Immediately remove thick one-third of mash and slowly (30 minutes) raise to boiling, then boil
15 minutes. Add back to main mash, stabilize at 152° F (66.5° C), rest one hour. Raise to 165° F (74° C)
(by adding boiling water if needed) and begin sparge.
Note: Those of you who want to skip the decoction thing, use the wort caramelization trick described
above, or substitute 1 pound (0.45 kilograms) of Munich or 2 pounds (0.90 kilograms) of Vienna for an
equal amount of Pilsener malt in the recipe.
Hops:
2.5 oz (71 g)
60 min
Saaz (3% AA)
2.5 oz (71 g)
15 min
Saaz (3% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
end of boil
Saaz (3% AA)
* Old-style undermodified malt requires the use of the classic three-decoction mash process and
eight hours out of your life.
3. Mashing plays a role in flavor development The traditional triple decoction Plzen
mash is diabolically complicated—the most complex of any of the historical lager
mash schedules. Three times, a portion is removed, boiled, and added back to the
mash to increase its temperature. This process was developed long ago as a way of
heating the mash in a wooden vessel, since a much smaller vessel is required for the
decocted portion (one-third of the mash). The twenty-two-step mashing sequence was
also needed to deal with the old, undermodified malt that needed much more vigorous
cooking to unleash all its sugar content and to reduce the larger proteins so they would
not create haze in the beer later on. If you decide to use the lightly modified Moravian
malt, you will need to read up on the triple-mash decoction procedure and follow it—
a brew day to remember, for sure.
The other thing that happens in a decoction is that some caramelization of the
wort and grain occurs while it is being boiled. This is a crucial element in old-time
Pilseners, and is the reason you may want to include at least one decoction in your
process. Simply take a thick third of your mash out during the protein rest, raise it up
to saccharification temperatures of 148 to 154° F (64.5 to 68° C) and hold for fifteen
minutes, then raise it to boiling. Boil this decoction for fifteen minutes, stirring
vigorously to prevent scorching, then add it back, which should just about get the
whole mash up to saccharification temperature. Another method that might develop
similar flavors is to take a quart or two of the first runoff and boil it briskly until it is
reduced to a syrup and begins to darken, just slightly. This technique can also be used
with extract beers, but there is a danger of adding too much color in such a pale beer.
Is Lager Beer Intoxicating? An 1874 View
Media coverage of alcohol consumption issues is so intense today that we may
tend to think of our era as one of wild, unbridled abuse. This is far more
perception than reality. In 1874, the atmosphere was so different that, well, just
read on:
“It is a debatable point whether lager beer will intoxicate, and the question
came up regularly before the Kings county circuit court, at Brooklyn, New
York, on a trial there of a charge for selling intoxicating liquors, in which the
defendant made the plea, in a defense, that lager did not intoxicate. A synopsis
of the testimony on this point follows:
“Valentine Eckfeldt swore that he had, on one occasion, drank fifteen glasses
before breakfast, to give him an appetite.
“Bernhardt Miller had seen a man drink forty glasses in a short time, without
being intoxicated. He himself had drunk that number in the space of about one
hour.
“Joseph Siser—who weighs two hundred and twenty five pounds—drank an
average of about forty glasses a day. It never hurt him any. He had drunk lager
since he was six or seven years of age, and he was now over fifty.”
Some lager beer glasses were sent for, and exhibited to the jury. They held a
pint apiece.
“James White testified to drinking fifty-two glasses of lager in two hours, and
a companion drank double the quantity in the same time. It had no intoxicating
effect on either of them.
“Philip Kock testified to drinking a keg of lager on a bet, within the space of
two hours. The keg contained seven and a half gallons, or thirty quarts. He felt
comfortable afterward, and was not intoxicated. He would frequently drink
from sixty to ninety glasses a day.
“Nicholas Haherny testified to seeing a man in Bavaria drink seventy-two
glasses between nine and ten o’clock in the morning and not get drunk.
“Dr. Arning testified to the effect that he saw a man in Germany drink one
hundred and sixty pint glasses in a sitting of three or four hours, and yet not
show any appearance of intoxication.
“At St. Louis, Mo., on the 2nd March last, Frank Lauman, keeper of a lager
beer saloon in that city, on a wager of twenty-five dollars, drank one hundred
and fifty glasses of lager. By the terms of the bet he was allowed from eight
a.m. to twelve p.m. of the same day to perform this feat. He swallowed fifty
glasses before ten o’clock, and by four p.m. he had finished seventy more,
being eight hours of the allotted time, and leaving him eight more in which he
might dispatch the remaining thirty at his leisure.
“It is hardly necessary to add any testimony of
my own to this, but I can say freely, that I am
knowing to the fact that Dr. Walcker, formerly
of Volksbuhne, drank every day, for a series of
years, five gallons of lager, which with a few
pretzels constituted his entire sustenance. I
learn also, on a respectable authority, that
Professor Kern, of College Hall, drank at that
place, six gallons at a sitting, which, it is true,
lasted several hours. Some of these, doubtless,
are extreme cases, but a gallon to an
individual, at convivial parties, is a common allowance.
“James R. Chilton, the celebrated chemical analyst of New York City,
ascertained by the usual tests, that lager contained three and three-fourths
percent of alcohol... He says that lager beer will not intoxicate unless drunk in
extraordinary quantities.”
This amazing quote was taken from a book entitled Cincinnati in 1874.
Obviously, as we know differently today, lager beer will indeed cause
intoxication. The physiology of alcohol has remained the same in the last one
hundred and seventeen years. It is interesting to try to grasp what they must
have meant by “intoxicated.”
4. Cold fermentation is important You can make a delicious beer by following all
the guidelines here, then fermenting with an altbier yeast at coolish temperatures, but
it won’t exactly be a Pilsener. To get the real stuff you need to use lager yeast to its
best advantage, and this requires a method of controlling fermentation temperature.
Primary fermentation should be about 50° F; secondary should be in the 35 to 40° F
range. A couple of days of elevated temperatures of 60 to 65° F (15.5 to 18.5° C) late
in the lagering will be needed to reduce the buttery diacetyl that commonly rears its
head. Authentically Czech yeast produces a dry, soft maltiness with an authentic touch
of diacetyl, and is highly recommended. It’s available as liquid yeast.
5. Use fresh extract If you’re attempting to make an extract version, the freshness of
your extract is of supreme importance. Liquid extract ages over time, producing thin,
cardboardy, tangy, or even “ballpoint pen” aromas, and darkens as it gets older. For a
beer this pale and delicate, dry malt extract is a better choice as it is more stable,
although a brisk-selling bulk syrup may also be good. If you have doubts, ask your
supplier.
When beer foams,
ditty is not far
Tankard, tankard,
I know I love to you
Son, learn be wise always
find moment to drinking
Don’t drink beer by eyes
Good meal, good drink are
ground of all liverhood
Beer warms up,
but it does not dress
God saves the drunken
Where there is brewery, there is
not necessary baker will be
Good beer can be also
in ugly barrel
Drink beer which you have
boiled yourself
Good beer, pretty girl, they are
gifts of Czech country
Barley is not grown for donkeys
Malt and hops—divine cement
— Czech beer proverbs from an Iron Curtain era Pilsner Urquell promotional
book.
DECOCTIONS—ARE THEY WORTH THE BOTHER?
You may have heard spine-chilling tales, told by hard-core homebrewers, of
arcane and sometimes gruesome mashing procedures, more resembling the opening
scene in Macbeth than the profoundly rational hobby of homebrewing. They are true.
Toil and trouble notwithstanding, decoction mashes do have a place in the
brewer’s arsenal of techniques. It’s an advanced technique, more complicated than
most other types of mashes, but decoctions allow you to create rich, malty flavors
unattainable any other way.
A decoction mash is a method of conducting a step mash by withdrawing a
portion of the mash, heating it to boiling, then returning it to the main mash. This
process may be repeated two or three times before the entire batch reaches the
appropriate final temperature. There are numerous traditional procedures, each suited
to a specific beer type, but all share the same idea.
Why did something so convoluted come about? Although it may seem illogical,
decoctions are an adaptation to inferior implements and ingredients. If steam-heated
stainless steel kettles were available five hundred years ago, we would have never
heard of decoctions. They neatly solve the problem of how to heat a large vat of
highly scorchable substance through a series of precise temperature changes, without
a large metal vessel, thermometer, or gentle heat source such as steam. Additionally,
decoctions help break down the flinty ends of poorly modified malt that used to be
standard in Europe, for a much improved yield. And there is some caramelization of
the sugars during the decoction boiling, which gives a decocted beer a caramelly
sweet maltiness quite different from malts alone.
The main portion of the mash can be kept in a simple insulated tub, while the
small decocted portion is boiled in a smaller pot on the fire. Controlling the mash
temperature by heating part of the mash, then returning it to the main mash, takes
advantage of water at its boiling point, which remains constant at any given altitude.
When the mash temperature is indexed to this constant natural standard, a brewer can
have precise control over the brewing process even without access to a thermometer.
As with so many of the old time methods, decocting is a slick and well-thought-out
procedure.
As you may have figured out by now, decoctions are a hassle.
Unlike an infusion mash, which you can walk away from for a while, decoctions
require constant fussing. A decoction mash will take two to three times as long as an
infusion mash, probably longer than a step mash with the same number of steps. Some
brewers like this kind of intimate involvement with their brews, but others find it a
chore. Fortunately, you needn’t follow every step of the traditional three-mash
decoction to get many of the benefits. A simplified decoction can be very effective in
giving your Pils or dunkel a little malty kick.
All the traditional techniques share certain common elements. Typically, malt is
doughed-in (mixed with water) at around 95° F (35° C) and allowed to stand for
twenty minutes or so. This gets everything wet and allows the enzymes to become
active, especially the low-temperature beta glucanase responsible for degrading the
gummy beta glucans that can cause a slow runoff. At the end of this rest, about a third
of the mash, usually the thick part, is removed, leaving thinner stuff in the mash tun.
The withdrawn portion is put in a small kettle and heated through a series of rests at
the optimal protein (122° F or 50° C) and saccharification (145 to 152° F or 62.5 to
66.5° C) temperatures. The decocted mash is then raised to the boiling point and
allowed to boil for up to a half-hour. It is then added back to the main batch, where it
serves to raise the temperature of the main mash up to its next rest step. After the first
decoction, the mash comes up to protein rest temperatures; after the second,
saccharification, and after the third, mash-off (165 to 170°F or 73 to 79° C). When
two-mash decoctions are used, the first temperature rise is accomplished by adding
hot water.
Decoctions are usually mashed a little thinner than infusion mashes:1.5 to 2.1
quarts of water per pound of malt (0.64 to 0.88 liters per kilogram). This makes it
easier to work with the mash, and allows much of the enzyme content to remain
behind in the thin portion, leaving it unaffected by the boiling of the decocted portion.
Sticking—and scorching—may be a problem, especially with a thin, stainless steel
kettle. This scorched flavor is awful and can ruin a beer. Stir as often as necessary,
which may be almost continuously. A heavier cooking pot will give better results.
Dark beers are usually mashed at the thicker end of this range, while pale ones are
usually mashed thinner.
There are several different traditional decoction routines used for producing beers
in Germany and elsewhere in Central Europe. The Zweimaischverfahren, or two-mash
decoction, is the simplest, and in the widest use. Traditionally reserved for the
production of pale beers, it is suitable for dark beers as well, but will not produce
effects as intense as the more complex mashes. Dilution of the two-mash is about 1.5
quarts per pound (0.64 liters per kilogram). The main saccharification rest takes place
between 144 and 148° F (62 to 63° C). Use a slotted spoon or colander to allow the
mash to drain somewhat before dumping it in the decoction pot. The second
decoction, half of the mash, having already had some starch conversion, is removed
without straining, so it is the same thickness as the rest of the mash. When it’s
returned to the mash, the whole thing comes up to a mash-out temperature of 164 to
167° F (73 to 75° C). For details of this and all the mashes discussed here, refer to the
accompanying charts for specifics of time and temperature.
The Dreimaischverfahren, or three-mash decoction, is the historical mash-of-
choice for darker beers, as it contributes the maximum amount of rich maltiness so
prized in dark lagers. The longer boiling time may add too much color for some pale
beers, but it was used for producing pale Munich lager, which can tolerate a golden
color, and benefits greatly from the added maltiness. Dilution is 1.25 quarts per pound
(0.53 liters per kilogram) for dark beers, and 1.75 quarts per pound (0.74 liters per
kilogram) for Munich Helles. The thicker mash tends to produce more dextrinous
worts, although this effect is slight. The main saccharification rest happens at the
middle of the range, around 149° F (65° C). The first two decoctions are one-fourth of
the volume of the mash each, and are thick in this mashing procedure. The third
decoction is one-third of the mash and is thin.
The Pilsener mash is the most complex decoction of all, a grueling challenge
involving twenty-two individual steps over nearly six hours. And, of course, it works
properly only with very soft water. The dilution is quite loose, at 2.1 quarts per pound.
The main saccharification rest happens at only 144.5° F (62.5° C), very low. All three
decoctions are one-third of the mash each, and are thick.
You can get some of the benefits of this flavor-enhancing technique without
losing your mind by doing streamlined decoctions. The simplest way is to just do a
single decoction. You can dough-in at 95° F (35° C) and then raise to 131° F (55° C).
The decoction can be taken off after the mash has had a fifteen-minute protein rest.
Raise the decoction to 155° F and let it stand for twenty minutes before raising it up to
boiling. This will saccharify the decocted portion before its few remaining enzymes
are destroyed by boiling. Heating the decoction will probably require constant stirring,
but try to do it as gently as possible as air has some undesirable effects on the mash
include oxidative darkening and possible increases in viscosity.
Don’t skip the 95° F (35° C) dough-in if you’re
doing a mash with a large proportion of Munich or
other lightly roasted malt. These malts have had
some of their enzymes deactivated due to the heat
used in kilning, although they still will convert
themselves. Beta glucanase is the enzyme most
sensitive to destruction by heat. It operates at a very
low temperature, below 100° F (38° C). If you start
your mash out at 122° F (50° C) or higher, you run
the risk of not letting the small amount of glucanase
enzymes left do their job of degrading beta glucans.
When these gummy materials are present they turn
your mash into the proverbial bowl full of jelly. If
you can imagine trying to sparge malt-flavored Jell-O, you get the picture. Dragsville.
Instead of doing your decoction between protein and saccharification rests, you
could do it at the completion of saccharification, and use the temperature rise to bring
the whole mash up to mash-off temperature of 165 to 169° F (74 to 76° C), an
important step often neglected by homebrewers. Mashing-off inactivates the enzymes
present, fixing the ratio of fermentables and unfermentables, and decreases the
viscosity of the wort, making lautering easier. Doing a little decoction is an ideal way
to accomplish it.
I recommend additional water (25 percent) to be added to the removed portion of
the mash. This will make it easier to handle, and especially to heat it up to boiling
without a lot of scorching. Be sure to use the same water you’re using for your mash
water.
You can adjust the length of the decoction boiling to correspond to the color of
beer being brewed. Dark beer can handle up to half an hour, but you might want to
limit pale beers to fifteen minutes.
If you just can’t swing the time and effort of a real decoction, all is not lost. Some
of decoction’s effects can be had by faking it. Longer-than-usual boils will produce
effects similar to decoctions. So you can, simply by adding an hour to the boil, get a
beer that is darker, richer, and more caramelly than usual—similar to the effects
produced by a decoction. This is effective with extract beers where there is nothing to
decoct. With modified extract beers, you might raise your specialty grain side-mash
up to boiling before straining it out to add to the extract in the kettle. So while there is
no true substitute for tradition, there are workarounds.
So is it really worth the effort? Well, generations of German brewmasters would
emphatically say “yes!” I guess it really depends upon how badly you want to get the
creamy malt flavor and aroma so important to a Münchener dunkel. If you’re going
for the gold in the next competition, it may just give you the edge you’re looking
for— not to mention the respect you’ll get from your beer geek friends as they
whisper, “Decoctions? He is serious.”
MUNICH DUNKEL
You can monkey around with crystal malt if you want to, but in my mind, there is
only one way to make a dark Munich lager, and that’s with large amounts of dark
Munich malt. In the old days, a brewer had only a very small range of malts—
sometimes just one—to work with. Pilsener was brewed with Pilsener malt;
Dortmunder with Dortmund malt; Vienna with Vienna malt. Likewise with Munich.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.048 (11.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 3.7 to 4.4%
Color: Ruby
Bitterness: 26 IBU
Yeast: Bavarian lager
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
An infusion mash will work with modern malts—an hour at 154° F (68° C) should do.
All-Grain Recipe:
9.5 lb (4.3 kg)97%
Munich malt (fully modified)
4.0 oz (114 g)3%
Carafa II roast malt
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
85%amber dry extract
1.0 lb (0.45
9%aromatic (dark Munich) malt
RECIPE
Monk-y Business Munich Dunkel
kg)
1 lb (0.45 kg)6%medium crystal malt
Hops:
1.25 oz (35 g)90 minHallertau (3.5% AA)
Munich malt is kilned longer and at a higher temperature than other lager malts,
resulting in a profoundly malty flavor with a hint of toastiness. It contains enough
enzymes to convert itself, so a 100 percent Munich malt beer is possible. Even though
Munich malt doesn’t seem all that dark to look at it, it can produce a beer with a deep
amber color. In the old days, it was the only malt employed in the production of
Dunkel, and, when combined with carbonate water and an intensive three-mash
decoction schedule, produced a suitably brown beer. Today a small amount of very
dark roast malt is used to add a touch of color.
As mentioned previously, a complex decoction was the traditional method of
choice. Today’s malts no longer require it, although decocting does add a certain
fatness and deep malty aroma. Cooking down some of the first wort (see p. 199) is a
quick-and-dirty substitute for a real decoction.
Hopping is light in this style, there just to provide some balance. Hallertau is a
good choice, although I like the chocolatey character of Northern Brewer. The hops
are added only at the beginning of the boil for maximum bitterness and minimum
aroma.
As with the Pilsener, a true lager yeast strain fermented at cool temperatures then
stored cold is critical to the character of this style. An ale yeast will ferment the wort,
of course, but the fruitiness created by ale yeasts at higher temperatures will mask all
the lovely maltiness you’ve worked so hard to develop.
Köstritz and Kulmbach (Culmbach) are the two centers of schwarzbier in Germany.
ALMOST PORTER—GERMAN SCHWARZBIER
The stereotype of Germany is of a country where everything fits into scrupulously
tidy compartments, utterly regulated, suiting the tastes of the residents like a pair of
custom-fitted lederhosen. I’ve heard brewers there bemoan the situation that brewing
a beer outside of well-established styles is not only frowned upon, but in some cases
simply not permitted.
This is belied by a strong interest in such Americana as free jazz and the artistic
oeuvre of David Hasselhoff. And if you look carefully, you might see an eccentric
beer that slips outside the carefully constructed framework of allowable brews. Black,
roasty, caramelly schwarzbier is such a product.
Porter made such a big splash in the beer world that by the mid-nineteenth
century brewers all over Europe were brewing it, not wanting to be left behind in case
it really was the Next Big Thing. Of course these brews were adapted to local
ingredients, techniques, and tastes—see the description of German porter, c. 1877, p.
260. As it happened, the Next Big Thing turned out to be Pilsener, and Continental
porters got pushed to the margins, assimilated into local tradition or forgotten entirely.
One such dark beer survived in Kulmbach, near Nürnberg (Nuremberg) in
Franconia, home of many interesting obscurities. A similar beer is still brewed in Bad
Köstritz, a small town in the former East Germany. In centuries past, brewing towns
were known either for white or red beer, and schwarzbier is clearly in the latter
category. Bad Köstritz is situated near Leipzig, long famous for a dark beer called
rastrum.
It should be noted that brewers in Central Bavaria use the term schwarzbier to
describe their dark lagers, which are paler than even those from Munich. These amber
beers, delicious as they are, don’t quite do justice to the word “black.”
Köstritzer schwarzbier is a mahogany-colored lager of above average strength. Its
two-dimensional malt character is key: a mellow, malty base drawn from Munich
malt, balanced by a soft roastiness provided by a de-bittered roast malt such as Carafa.
On top of this, further balancing the malt, is a solid 40 IBU of hop bitterness. Lager
fermentation smooths out the mix and prevents distracting flavors of fruit or spice that
higher temperatures can bring. It’s a cool-weather beer for sure, but one that is crisply
drinkable thanks to its well-balanced personality—deeply malty but not cloying.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.061 (14.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.1 to 4.9%
Color: Ruby-brown
Bitterness: 26 IBU
Yeast: Bavarian lager
Maturation: 8 to 12 weeks
This is a lager, so lager yeast and cool fermenting temperatures are recommended, with a long (six
weeks) cold lagering period.
All-Grain Recipe:
9.0 lb (4.1 kg)
74%Munich malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
21%pale or Pilsener malt
8.0 oz (170 g)
3%Carafa II roast malt
A decoction procedure would be traditional, and this indeed accentuates the rich maltiness here. If you
have the time and inclination, by all means go for it (see p. 108), but you can make a fine beer with a
stepped infusion. Use a glucanase rest at 95° F (35° C) for half an hour, then step up to 153° F (67° C)—a
little on the high side, to emphasize unfermentables for a sweeter, fuller beer—and hold there for an hour
before mashing out at 170° F (77° C) and sparging as usual.
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
6.5 lb (2.9 kg)
78%amber malt extract
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
18%dark crystal malt, crushed
6.0 oz (170 g)
4%black patent malt
Hops:
2.0 oz (56 g)90 minSpalt (4% AA)
RECIPE
Doktor Schnurrbart Schwarzbier
ALTERNATE BOCKS
Traditional bock beer is not much more than a stronger version of Munich dunkel,
so you can take the recipe on p. 111 and multiply everything except the water by 1.25,
which will bring it to 1.070 (16.4 °P) or so.
The idea of a strong lager brewed as a celebration of spring is an extremely
simple concept, one that lends itself to embellishment in a number of ways. Here are a
few to get you started:
Pilsenerbock Who can say they don’t love the combination of light caramelly malt
played against the spicy tang of fresh Czech Saaz hops? As Martha Stewart likes to
say, “More is more.” This is a pale bock with real personality. There’s historical
precedent too with a “Bohemian double beer” at 1.057 (13.5 °P) mentioned in some of
the old books as late as the 1930s. It was described as golden in color, the result of a
slightly higher kilning temperature for the malt.
Try to get ahold of the real thing: genuine Czech-grown Saaz hops. I would brew
this one to about 1.068 OG (16 °P), about like a Maibock, which it resembles. About
8.5 pounds (3.9 kilograms) of syrup or 7.5 pounds (3.4 kilograms) of dry malt extract
should get you there. Use the palest extract you can find. Pale dried extract may be
paler than syrup. Bitterness should be about 45 to 60 IBU, a little higher than a normal
Pilsener, to compensate for higher gravity and longer lagering time. An ounce of Saaz
hops for the full boil, 2 ounces added twenty minutes from the end, and another 2
ounces in the last five minutes should give you the bitterness and delicious, spicy
aroma you’re looking for.
A two-hour boil will intensify the caramelization of the wort, simulating in part
the effect of the traditional triple decoction mash. If you’re mashing, do a decoction if
you can manage it. See earlier in this chapter for more on decoctions.
There are pale bocks and dark bocks, but why no amber bocks? Just shoot right down the middle of those
two styles and you have a lovely beer.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.070 (16.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.2 to 6.1%
Color: Ruby-brown
Bitterness: 30 IBU
Yeast: Bavarian lager
Maturation: 10 to 12 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
12.0 lb (5.4 kg) 92%
Vienna malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 8%
aromatic malt
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
5.75 lb (2.6 kg) 62%
pale dry extract
2.0 lb (0.09 kg) 22%
Munich malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 11%
aromatic malt
0.5 lb (227 g) 5%
U.S. six-row (U.S. two-row can substitute)
RECIPE
Festbock
Mash-in at 90 to 95° F to allow for a beta-glucan rest, then step it up to the traditional 122° F and 153° F
protein and saccharification rests. Of course, a decoction will intensify the caramel aromas in the finished
beer.
Hops:
1.5 oz (43 g)
90 min Spalt (4% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
90 min U.S. Tettnang (4.5% AA)
Schwarzbock If you’ve ever had a decent Kulmbacher schwarzbier, you know what a
delicious style this is. Again, why not “bockify” it?
The key to this beer is a subtle, three-way balance between malt sweetness, hop
bitterness, and the roasty bitterness of black malt. The important thing is to get enough
fat malty sweetness to counter the roast malt and hops. I would take the grist bill for
Doktor Schnurrbart Schwarzbier and add an extra half-pound (227 grams) of Carafa II
malt plus an additional pound or two of malt or extract.
All black malts are not created equal. Some maltsters “de-bitter” their deep-
roasted malts, creating a softer, smoother roastiness appropriate for this style. Carafa
is Weyermann’s trade name for this type of malt. It comes in three shades and is
available in a dehusked form for an even smoother flavor.
Bitter and finish this beer with Hallertau. Total bitterness should be moderate,
maybe 30 to 35 IBU. About 1 ounce (28 grams) will do for the full one-and-a-half-
hour boil. Add another half-ounce (14 grams) for the last twenty minutes of the boil,
and a half-ounce (14 grams) for the last five minutes. This beer comes very close to
the German porter described on p. 260.
Cherrybock Brewers in German cherry-growing regions did sometimes add cherries
to their beers. Added to an already luscious ruby-colored bock, cherries turn into a
dessert in a glass. Bock’s a perfect platform for this kind of vamping, too. Round and
smooth, with nothing sticking out. I would recommend between 5 and 10 pounds of
frozen sour cherries, possibly augmented by some dark sweet ones. See Chapter 13
for more detail on adding fruit to beers.
Chapter 9
B
ELGIANS
A
RE
E
ASY
W
e beer snobs worship Belgium.
With its astonishing range of
idiosyncratic beers from ancient, rustic lambic to heavenly monastic tripels, Belgian
ale can be a literally religious experience. Many existing styles are living remnants of
medieval brewing traditions. Some of the techniques and procedures sure make you
feel like you’re slogging through the Dark Ages.
Luckily, many Belgian beers are models of simplicity, as least as far as brewing
technique is concerned. Most use the same basic infusion mash as any ordinary ale, so
there’s no need to fear. Belgian ales will test your ability to judge good materials and
put a balanced, complex recipe together, but that’s where the fun is.
Tonnendragers, Bruges c. 1900
Here’s a smattering of easy-to-brew Belgian styles, and some suggestions for
striking off on your own. It’s important to keep in mind that half of all beers in
Belgium don’t really fit into any particular style, which makes the whole adventure
very appealing to a beer artist like me. For those wanting greater challenges, the more
technically complex Belgian styles will be covered in Chapter 15.
BELGIAN PALE ALES
Of modest strength and varying shades of amber, these pale ales retain enough
wacky character to remind the drinker that something Belgian is being consumed. Not
heavily hopped like their British cousins, they rely on a mix of subtle maltiness and
offbeat yeast character to make their point. As a hophead, you may be disappointed.
But if you love the intricacies of a well-malted beer, this could be your cup of beer.
The two best known examples are Palm Ale and De Koninck. Both are of
medium strength, around 1.050 (12 °P), with hopping in the low 20 IBU range. De
Koninck is a little paler and crisper, just a touch lighter on the palate, while Palm is a
bit richer and darker. De Koninck is currently being imported to certain regions in the
United States; I haven’t seen Palm in a decade or more. If you have a chance to try
either, don’t pass it up.
As a brewer, I find Belgian-style pale ale a perfect launching pad for investigating
the many facets of medium-colored malt. Vienna, Munich, and pale ale malts are all
pretty subtle, and are best enjoyed in an uncomplicated beer. Added to a base of
Belgian Pils or pale malt, they’ll give you a range of flavors from purely malty to
caramel, toffee, nutlike, even hints of toast.
On top of that you can sprinkle a little of the slightly darker malts the Belgians
also use, like biscuit and aromatic, for even more malty fun. These apparent twins,
identical in color, have very different personalities. The aromatic is roasted moist, for
a full, sweet, caramel nuttiness. Dry kilning gives biscuit a crisp, toasty quality.
Brewing sugars can also add a little magic. Let me first say that I believe the
gravel-sized rocks of “candi sugar” sold to homebrewers to be a complete rip-off.
Sure, they look nice and cost a lot, but they are nearly pure refined sugar—that’s what
crystallizing does, remember? Get your hands on some unrefined sugar—rough,
lumpy, tan stuff that actually has some flavor. Five to 10 percent in a recipe will add
mysterioso flavors, as well as lighten the palate a tad. Just dump ’em into the brewpot.
And of course, it wouldn’t be Belgian beer if you couldn’t further liven it up with
some Secret Spice. The orange peel/coriander combo blends so perfectly with amber
malty beers, it is often impossible to sort the flavors out. Then there are zillions of
other spices like star anise, licorice, and grains of paradise, which go even further. The
sky’s the limit—just keep it very subtle if you want to stay in the ballpark.
Use fresh orange peel. The best is Seville, which may be found in Caribbean or
sometimes Latino markets described as “sour orange.” Ordinary oranges or tangerines
will do, but use two instead of one. Just peel the outer orange layer of the skin with a
potato peeler (avoiding the bitter white pith), and add it to the brew kettle at the end of
the boil.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.055 (13 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5 to 5.6%
Color: Pale amber
Bitterness: 30 IBU
Yeast: Belgian ale
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
All-grain and mini mash: mash at 152° F (67° C) for an hour, then add boiling water to raise to 170° F
(77° C), and sparge.
All-Grain Recipe:
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
40.5%Belgian pale ale malt
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)
30%Belgian Munich malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
10%Belgian aromatic malt
6.0 oz (170 g)
0.5%Belgian medium crystal
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
15%Piloncillo or other unrefined sugar, added to brew kettle
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)40%
pale dry extract
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)20%
amber dry extract
Plus: the aromatic and crystal malts, and the piloncillo
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)
90 minNorthern Brewer (6.5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
15 minSaaz (3% AA)
0.67 oz (19 g)
90 minSaaz (3% AA)
RECIPE
Yellow Diamond Belgian Pale Ale
Add at end of boil:
1 to 2 oranges, zested
0.5 oz (14 g) coriander, crushed (variety from an Indian market for best flavor)
1 whole star anise, or 0.5 tsp (2 g) grains of paradise, or your secret spice of choice
Hops are there primarily for balance, which isn’t to say any old cone will do.
With their former ties to the Austrian Empire, Belgian brewers have a tradition of
Czech (Saaz) hops. Styrian Goldings are another popular variety there; often both are
used. Don’t use high alpha hops unless you want to twist this style into something
altogether different; grapefruit is for breakfast.
Yeast is a crucial flavor contributor, and there are plenty from which to choose.
Employ one with Belgian character, such as a Trappist strain. These yeasts add
complex spicy and fruity notes impossible to obtain anywhere else, yet don’t swerve
off-road like the wild yeasts and other fuzzy bugs in lambics. Trappist ales are
traditionally fermented quite warm, even as high as 80° F (26.5° C), but this is
overdoing it for the pale ale style. Normal ale brewing temperatures of 60 to 70° F
(15.5 to 21° C) will give you the right amount of zing.
Mashing is pretty straightforward with the highly modified malts used here. A
simple infusion mash will do, with a single conversion rest, then a bump-up to mash
out before sparging. Note: you can also brew this beer with German or English pale
and Munich malts.
BREWS OF BEELZEBUB—BELGIAN STRONG PALE ALES
You know the ones. Friendly little lawnmower
beers, crisp and fruity, a light spicy tang on the finish,
just gotta have one more. Then you find yourself on
the floor, the Devil looking down at you, and she’s
leering menacingly as the pitchfork is coming down,
hard. Welcome to the style, sucker!
Duvel is the archetype, of course, brewed
originally as a dark beer then switched over to its
current pale avatar only in 1970—twenty years after
the Trappist brothers at Westmalle came up with their
famous tripel.
The strong pale ales of Belgium represent an interesting intersection of four
things: the drive toward pale beers in England (IPA) and the Continent (Pils) that
really took off in the middle of the nineteenth century; a rebound from the
catastrophically weak beers of the wartime years; a desire to compete with full-
strength British beers imported after World War I; and a 1919 law that prohibited the
on-premise sale of gin, which necessitated a suitably zippy replacement.
Here you have a beer that’s part Pils, part IPA, and burly enough to stand in for
gin. Not a hard beer to brew, in theory, but you have to get all the details right.
There’s nothing to hide behind.
Very high quality Pilsener malt is essential. To this is added pure corn sugar to
keep the color and texture light. Saaz and Styrian hops are used. The brewery uses
two different strains of yeast, originally cultured up out of a McEwans bottle by no
less a beer god than Jean DeClerck himself.
Brewing is pretty straightforward. A step infusion with a protein rest is
recommended, as it will reduce the amount of haze-forming proteins in the final beer.
This is one we do want nice and clear. The brewery uses a long, cold conditioning
period— lagering, really—and this is also recommended for the home version, as it
really smooths out the flavors. A month at refrigerator temperatures ought to do it.
Bottled versions are highly carbonated, as is common with Belgian beers. I again
recommend half as much priming sugar as normal. Such a beer bomb must be served
chilled, of course. It is difficult to serve a draft beer with that much pressure. I would
carbonate it as highly, maybe around 15 psi (cold). When serving, turn the pressure
down to about 5 psi, pour, then crank it back up to the storage pressure.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.073 (17.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 7.1 to 8%
Color: Pale gold
Bitterness: 41 IBU
Yeast: Belgian ale
Maturation: 8 to 10 weeks
RECIPE
Fallen Angel Strong Pale
All-Grain Recipe:
10.5 lb (4.8 kg)93%
Pilsener malt
1.75 lb (0.79 kg) 7%
corn sugar
Extract Recipe:
6.75 lb (3.1 kg)93%
pale dry extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)7%
corn sugar
Hops:
1.25 oz (35 g)60 min
Northern Brewer (6.5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)30 min
Saaz (3% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)30 min
Styrian Goldings (5.5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)end of boil Saaz (3% AA)
SAISON: BEER OF HEAVENLY BALANCE
When you get done mowing the lush green lawn that
coats the cloud tops all over heaven, of course you’re
going to need a beer to drink. And one would think that in
that ultimate luxury skybox a cool, golden, refreshing
saison would always be within an easy reach. I know the
song says heaven is bare of beer, but this seems to me an
impossibility, given its reputation as the ultimate pleasure
dome. I like to think the Vikings had the right idea along
these lines. For them heaven didn’t just have a beer hall.
Heaven was a beer hall.
I can think of few beer styles that give me more pleasure here on earth. Crisp yet
substantial, fragrantly hoppy, but underlain with a delicate maltiness, it maintains a
hair’s breadth balance among its many aspects. Hovering between weak and strong,
hoppy and malty, spiced and straightforward, this beer is what you find in it, always
adding up to a harmonious whole.
Saison is about as close to homebrew as a commercial product can get. The
handful of remaining Belgian producers are all very small, and brew in a traditional,
even rustic fashion. The beers are usually bottle-conditioned in 750-milliliter
“champagne” type bottles, so there’s really nothing about the style that’s beyond the
homebrewer’s range of technique.
Saison is the product of francophone Belgium, specifically the western part of
Hainault province. It has a long provenance as a farmhouse ale, brewed to serve as a
fortifying—but not stupefying—thirst quencher for the labors of the summer field.
Gravities used to be around 4° B (1.040 or 9.5 °P), but have crept up in the last half
century; now they’re at 1.048 to 1.062 (11.5 to 15 °P), with “speciale” versions going
even higher, up to 1.085 (20 °P). Nothing would prevent you from doing a barley
wine strength interpretation.
Pilsener malt is the main ingredient. A dab of
specialty malt adds depth without tarnishing the lovely
blond glow. Munich, Vienna, or even pale ale malt will
round out the flavor. In small amounts—less than 20
percent—they won’t add too much color. I find crystal
malt a little too chewy for this style, but some very light
crystal might be a good idea if you’re trying to make a
mostly extract version, and then, well, let the color be
damned. A small amount of malted wheat—about 10
percent—adds a firm, creamy head. With stronger
interpretations I like to use some sugar. Partially refined
sugars such as turbinado, demerara, piloncillo, or jaggery are great for this purpose, as
they contribute another layer of flavor and not just extra alcohol.
Hops should be assertive, but not overwhelming. Bitterness levels are usually in
the 30 to 45 IBU range. All manner of European hops are used in Belgium; Kent
Goldings are the signature aroma in at least one commercial saison. The spiciness of
Saaz also goes well with this style. I would stay away from high-alpha hops of any
kind, as their flavors are likely to be too intrusive.
Spices are a part of the mix, typically at a very subtle and self-effacing level.
Orange and coriander are common; other “mystery” ingredients crop up as well, from
black pepper to aniseed to “medicinal lichen” (Go to
and see if you can sort this one out). I especially like the crisp pepperiness added by
grains of paradise, a once-popular culinary spice with a flavor that’s a blend of white
pepper and plywood, with citrusy overtones.
Much of the available coriander reeks strongly of celery seed, which I find very
obtrusive in a beer. The type sold at Indian groceries is far superior, and I believe a
nice variety is sold through some homebrew channels. Seville (usually sold as “sour”)
oranges are the best, although they’re hard to find. A mix of regular orange and
grapefruit peel can serve as a substitute. I find that the dried chunks add an awful lot
of pithy bitterness and not enough orange. I just peel (with a potato peeler) the colored
outer zest from fresh oranges and add them at the end of the boil.
Mashing is a straightforward infusion. The lower the gravity, the higher the main
mash temperature. This will raise the percentage of unfermentables, in keeping with
Coriander, Indian Variety
This larger, paler type has a softer, fruitier flavor and is better for beer than the ordinary
kind, which can taste somewhat vegetal in beer.
In the old days, these beers were often a blend of fresh beer with stale, resulting
in a crisp lactic tang counterbalancing the sweet freshness of young beer. This is
obviously a difficult thing to do successfully. Invite lactic acid bacteria into your
brewery for a little snack, and the next thing you know they’re hogging the couch and
demanding more batteries for the remote, if you know what I mean. So exercise
caution if you go this route. Less threatening solutions include blending in a bottle of
saison’s pedigree as a beer of sustenance. Beers of 1.040 (9.5 °P) should be mashed at
around 155° F (68° C), dropping down to 152° F (66.5° C) for beers higher than 1.065
(15.5 °P). An hour should be sufficient to convert.
Saison yeasts are some of Belgium’s most ancient and earthy cultivated yeasts,
often with unique personalities. Both Wyeast (3724) and White Labs (WLP 565)
produce a saison strain for homebrewers, and I highly recommend them if you want
an authentic taste. If you can’t get your hands on either, try another Belgian strain.
Yeast character is such a part of this style that I recommend you not even bother if
you can’t come up with a Belgian strain of some sort. Fermentation at the higher end
of the temperature range (70 to 76° F or 21 to 24.5° C) will encourage the
development of the rich fruity aromatic character we’re after.
lambic at bottling/kegging time or adding 5 to 20 milliliters of food grade lactic acid
at any time in the process.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.060 (14.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.3 to 6.1%
Color: Pale gold
Bitterness: 38 IBU
Yeast: Belgian ale
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
5.5 lb (2.5 kg)
55%Pilsener malt
2.5 lb (1.1 kg)
25%Munich malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
10%malted wheat
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
10%piloncillo (or other partially-refined sugar)
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
3.5 lb (1.6 kg)44%pale dry malt extract
Plus the Munich, wheat, and piloncillo, above.
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)
60 minNorthern Brewer (7% AA)
1.5 oz (43 g)
30 minSaaz (3% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
5 minKent Goldings (5% AA)
For last 5 minutes of boil, add:
0.67 oz (19 g) Indian coriander
Zest of 1 Seville/sour orange or 1 regular orange plus zest from one-fourth of a grapefruit
0.25 tsp (1 g) grains of paradise or black pepper, coarsely crushed
RECIPE
Saisoon Buffoon
Other mystery spices as you like
Mash should be a simple infusion, with a one hour saccharification at 153° F (67° C) or
thereabouts. Sparge as usual. Boil for one hour, add hops as noted by each addition, above. Spices
are added for the last five minutes of the boil. Ferment with a Belgian Saison-type yeast, between
65 and 70° F (18.5 to 21° C).
Bottle or keg at higher than normal pressures for an authentic texture—5.5 ounces
(156 grams) of corn sugar priming should get you there. If force carbonating, aim for
a final pressure about 25 percent higher than you normally would use. This may
require bleeding some of the pressure from the keg before serving to prevent over-
foaming. Serve cool, not cold, and enjoy the taste of heaven.
THREE TIMES THE FUN—ABBEY-STYLE BEERS
Abbey and Trappist beers have a proud lineage that goes back at least a thousand
years. Monks of the Cistercian order, founded in the twelfth century, place special
emphasis on vocation as part of their religious observances, and the production of beer
and other foods such as cheese has a central role. Today there are five monasteries
producing beer in Belgium, and numerous other commercial breweries produce the
abbey style, sometimes under license to a monastery. It is difficult to accurately define
the style, as there is a lot of variation. A common feature is the designation of a series
of ever stronger beers sometimes designated by single, double, triple, and even
quadruple, although other means—cap color, for example—may be used to designate
the individual beers. Not all abbey beers follow this practice, however. The term
“Trappist” constitutes an appellation indicating the beer is brewed by the monastery
itself, as opposed to being contracted. It’s not a guarantee of quality per se, but as it
happens, all the abbeys produce beers of the very highest order.
The single is the weakest beer, and rarest in this country, as it was the beer
traditionally brewed for routine consumption at the monastery and is falling into
obscurity. Generally, singles are about 1.050 OG (12 °P) and pale amber in color.
Fresh and fruity, with spicy yeast aromas, they’re a delightful session drink. Dubbels
are stronger and usually darker. The classic double/dubbel is Chimay Red Cap. At
1.063 OG (15 °P), it is deep amber, softly malty, with spicy fruity aromas, and a very
slightly toasty finish. Tripels may actually be dark, but the archetype for the
triple/tripel style is Westmalle. Brilliant gold, 1.080 OG (19 °P), with a honeyed
maltiness and a crisp hoppy finish, it pioneered the style for many other Belgian
strong golden ales.
The above examples are considered classics, but there’s a lot of individuality
even among the six monastery breweries, so nothing really fits into neat little
categories. The whole range of Rochefort is dark and chocolatey, very rich and deeply
flavored. The Westvleteren beers are also deep amber, evocative of dried fruit and
spice, without the chocolatey roast character of Rochefort. Orval produces just one
beer, which is as much a saison as anything, but crisper and not so lush. It’s 1.054 to
1.055 OG, tawny gold, with a massively dense head fueled by very high carbonation.
Fermented with both ale and lager yeast (which is used for bottle-conditioning), it has
a unique, earthy, Brettanomyces “horse” aroma, high bitterness and hop aroma due to
dry-hopping, all of which makes for a very refreshing beer.
All of the Trappist beers are artisanal products, bottle
conditioned and flat-out wonderful. The commercial abbey
beers tend to be a little more mass-market, and are
sometimes filtered before bottling, which tends to affect
both flavor and texture.
Abbey-style beers are subtle and captivating beers to
master, but there’s nothing difficult about the technique. As
a group, they are masterpieces of depth and balance, which
always takes a little work on the recipe side. Here are a few
hints and tips for abbey style ales.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.050 (12 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.4 to 4.9%
Color: Medium gold
Bitterness: 28 IBU
Yeast: Belgian abbey ale
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)
63.5% Pilsener malt
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)
31.5% pale ale malt
0.5 lb (227 g0
5%aromatic malt
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
4.5 lb (2 kg)69%
pale dry malt extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 15.5%
pale crystal malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 15.5%
aromatic malt
Hops:
0.75 oz (21 g)
60 min Challenger (7.5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
30 min Saaz (3% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
5 minNorthdown (6.5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
5 minSaaz (3% AA)
RECIPE
Hoosonfurst Abbey Singel
Pay special attention to quality of the mid- and dark-colored malts. A dubbel can
be a showcase for the darker sorts of crystal malts, and it’s important to find one
with a rich, complex flavor. The mid color malts such as aromatic and biscuit also
come in very handy. There’s not much use for very dark malts in the style. In
tripel, the pale malt is of special importance as sugar forms part of the grain bill,
and it’s important to have a malt that has enough punch to handle this.
Mashing is a straightforward affair, with a simple infusion mash. With the
stronger styles, a slightly lower saccharification temperature (145° F or 63° C) as
opposed to 150° F (65.5° C) should be used to produce a more fermentable wort.
Hop aroma is rarely a big deal in this category. Nevertheless, you want to stick
with good aroma varieties as the Belgian brewers do. Saaz is generally favored
for paler beers, sometimes in combination with Styrian Goldings.
Spices such as orange peel, coriander, and grains of paradise can be used to add
complexity, but if you can pick them out, you’re using too much.
Use sugar. The stronger beers should never be thick or cloying. This is one of the
truly magical things about the category. It’s absolutely essential to add some
sugar to tripels, and I think it improves dubbels as well, as it keeps the crystal
malt from making the beer too heavy and syrupy. The expensive candi sugar you
find in homebrew shops is nothing more than pure sucrose and is a waste of
money. I get better results from semirefined sugars such as jaggery, piloncillo,
and others (see p. 196). The usual dosage is 5 to 15 percent.
Use a proper Belgian yeast. Many of the available strains have pedigrees from
actual Trappist breweries, which you can sort out with a little sleuthing. These
strains add that extra layer of spicy, fruity subtleness that is so important here.
These beers are traditionally fermented at high temperatures, up into the 80° F
range. This may be overdoing it a bit, but don’t ferment them below about 65° F
or you’ll miss all the wonderful complexity the yeast can offer. Note that stronger
beers may require an alcohol-tolerant strain.
Cooked sugar—caramel—syrup can add color and depth without adding
heaviness. Belgian brewers use them, but I have not found any available to
homebrewers here. See p. 198 for how to make your own.
Tripel can be a very strong beer, so observe the suggestions in the following
chapter regarding strong beer fermentation.
Don’t be afraid to brew outside the narrow confines of the few classic examples.
Belgian beer is all about creativity and self-expression, even in monasteries of a
very strict order.
Star Anise
This Asian spice can add a rich, complex anise character, and is especially valued in
dark beers.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.063 (15 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.5 to 6.4%
Color: Deep amber
Bitterness: 29 IBU
Yeast: Belgian abbey ale
Maturation: 8 to 10 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)
63.5% pale ale malt
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)
23%Munich malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
9%Belgian medium-dark crystal
RECIPE
Two Bits Abbey Dubbel
0.5 lb (227 g)4.5%
aromatic malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)9%
Piloncillo or other partially-refined sugar
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
3.25 lb (1.5 kg)41%
pale dry malt extract
1.75 lb (0.79 kg) 22%
amber dry malt extract
Plus: the crystal, aromatic, and piloncillo, above.
Hops:
1.25 oz (35 g)90 min Northern Brewer (7% AA)
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.080 (19 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 7.6 to 8.6%
Color: Pale gold
Bitterness: 43 IBU
Yeast: Belgian abbey ale
Maturation: 3 to 4 months
All-Grain Recipe:
10.0 lb (4.5 kg) 72%
Pilsener malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg) 14%
Munich malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg) 14%
jaggery or demerara sugar
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.6 kg)89%
pale dry malt extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 11%
pale crystal malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg) 14%
jaggery or demerara sugar
Hops:
RECIPE
Three-Nipple Tripel
2.0 oz (57 g)
60 min Styrian Goldings (7% AA)
1.5 oz (43 g)
15 min Saaz (3% AA)
Trappist beers offer an amazing variety of flavors and colors.
Chapter 10
B
IG
H
ONKIN’
B
REWS
N
ot even the brandy stashed
beneath the drooling chin of the faithful
Saint Bernard can warm the bone-deep chill of winter like a rich, strong ale. They
require more effort and expense than the ordinary stuff, but the rewards can be worth
it. Few pleasures are greater than cracking open a well-cared-for barley wine basking
in the glow of its fifth year. Such beers are best savored slowly and with great respect,
as their intensity and alcoholic strength can be overwhelming if treated like a lesser
brew.
“Neither did Romulus and Remus suck their she-wolf, or
shepherd’s wife, Lupa, with such eager and sharp devotion, as
these men hale at huffcap till they be red as cocks and little wiser
than their combs.”
— William Harrison, 1587
We’re talking about ales of 1.085 (20 °P) and up. This will limit our discussion to
a manageable number of truly big styles, beers with 8 percent alcohol or more. They
take a little more preparation and a lot more patience, but they are worth the wait!
BIG WORT
Strong ales demand special production techniques. To produce high-gravi ty
worts it is necessary to use a technique that will concentrate the sugars above the
usual range of wort gravities.
With extract beers, the answer is to simply use a greater quantity of extract. The
usual two 3.3-pound (1.5 kilogram) cans of syrup will produce a 1.054 (13 °P) wort;
three cans will get you to 1.080 (19 °P); and if you use four cans, you’ll get all the
way up to 1.100 (24 °P). Be sure to use the freshest syrup you can find, or dried
extract, which seems to hold up better.
Extracts may also be used to boost the gravity of mashed beers. Since the
mashing process requires the mash be sparged, or rinsed, with hot water to recover all
the fermentable sugars, it is difficult to efficiently obtain worts above 1.060 (14.5 °P).
So adding a few pounds of malt extract to the kettle is the simplest way to boost the
strength to the level we’re talking about.
Another technique is to collect a normal gravity wort of about 1.060 (14.5 °P) and
boil it until enough water has been vaporized to increase the gravity to the desired
range. If a 1.060 (14.5 °P) wort is boiled down to two-thirds of its original volume,
the remaining wort will be boosted up to 1.090 (21.5 °P). Remember to account for
this decrease in volume, and make enough of the weaker wort to give you the proper
batch size when reduced.
The most ancient technique is to do a split, or parti-gyle, brew. This involves
using the strong first runnings only for the production of a strong beer, while boiling
the second, weaker runnings separately to create a weaker beer. This makes
formulation tricky—and requires a brewing system large enough to get a reasonable
quantity of the strong wort—but it is very efficient. The key fact to remember is that
the first third of the runnings will contain half the extract, making it twice as strong as
the second two-thirds. For more on this technique, see p. 200.
Another method of producing strong wort is a double brew, used to brew strong
beers at least as far back as Elizabethan times. A normal mash is conducted, then the
wort collected from this is used to mash-in a second brew. The runoff from this will
be exceedingly strong, way up over 1.100, resulting in beers with well over 10-percent
alcohol.
Of course adding some type of sugar is a pretty easy way to get extra
fermentables into your wort, and it has the added advantage of thinning out the body
of the beer so it’s a little more drinkable. Adding malt extract to an otherwise all-grain
recipe is a technique used by many brewers of strong beers.
BIG HOPS
One important thing brewers of ultra-strong beers need
to do is load them up with hops. There are three reasons for
this: first, these intensely strong beers have an incredible
amount of malt in them, and high ho p rates are needed to
balancethisstickiness.Second,high-gravityworts
assimilate hop bitterness rather poorly during the boil.
Utilization rates of 35 percent may easily be achieved (1.5-
hour boil, 1.040 and 9.5 °P wort) with normal strength beers,
but this drops to 27 percent with a 1.090 (21.5 °P) wort, and
goes down to just 22 percent at 1.110 (24 °P), so hop rates
must be boosted to compensate for this poor utilization. The
third factor is the long aging time required for strong beers.
Over time, hop bitterness diminishes; my personal rule-of-
thumb is that beer loses a quarter of its perceived bitterness
every year it ages. This means at two years, that 70 IBU
barley wine will taste like only 39 IBU.
What all this means is that you may use almost 5.5
ounces (156 grams) of 7 percent alpha bittering hops in a 5-
gallon batch under the following scenario:
1.5 hr. boil@ 25% utilization90 IBU =3.3 oz (94 g)
30 min. boil @ 15% utilization
35 IBU =2.1 oz (60 g)
TOTALS:
125 IBU =5.4 oz (154 g)
This is probably far more hops than you might add simply by guessing. Aroma
declines at least as quickly as bitterness, so the same adjustments need to be made to
the quantity of finishing hops added at the end of the boil. One should also note that
large quantities of hops in the wort may soak up a lot of that valuable wort, which
might suggest that for very bitter strong beers, good quality high-alpha hops might be
a better choice. Most hop-mad brewers end up brewing extra wort which will be left
behind in the hops after the boil is finished. Or, you can centrifuge the wort out of
them with a salad spinner!
“Men drink it thick, and piss it thin,
Mickle Faith by St. Elroy, what leaves it within?”
— Quoted by Edward Whitaker, 1700
BIG YEAST
This is the most difficult aspect of strong beer brewing. At high alcohol levels,
yeast undergoes enormous stress, and conditions must be created to ensure this does
not degrade beer quality.
First, it is important to use a yeast that will tolerate alcohol well. Most Belgian
abbey ale yeasts pass this test, but British ale strains are much more variable in their
alcohol tolerance. I have had good experience with the old Ballantine’s ale yeast
(Wyeast 1056 or White Labs WLP 001), the strain used to ferment Bigfoot
Barleywine.
Yeast may be cultured from some commercial beers, but samples from high-
gravity brews may be over-stressed, even mutated, so culture your yeast from the
lowest-gravity beer in the family—the pale ale, for example.
You need to have enough yeast. The use of a starter is imperative, even when
packets of commercial yeast—dry or liquid—are used. Four times the amount of yeast
for a normal batch is the rule of thumb. A pint of thick slurry would not be too much.
There is no need to worry about creating a yeasty-tasting beer. The ideal way to get
this quantity of yeast is to save it from a past batch. Pour the lees from a recent
secondary into a sterile mason jar and allow it to settle in the refrigerator. The smooth
creamy layer in the middle contains the freshest, most active yeast. This will keep for
a few weeks under refrigeration. Before using, it is a good idea to bring the yeast up to
pitching temperature and feed it with some sterile wort a day or two before adding it
to your beer.
Adequately aerating your wort is of supreme importance with high-gravity beers.
Yeast requires oxygen to reproduce, and as noted above, it is crucial to get as much
yeast going as possible. See
for the options.
Sometimes multiple strains of yeast are used. A normal ale yeast, chosen for its
flavor characteristics, is used to ferment during the primary, then a second, alcohol-
tolerant yeast is added to the secondary. Champagne yeasts will tolerate alcohol up to
15 to 17 percent, but produce bone-dry, neutral-tasting beers when used as the sole
yeast.
BIG TIME
Once brewed, Grasshopper, you must learn
patience. It takes a long time for the yeast to
hack its way through all that sugar under the
high-alcohol conditions that quickly develop. Six
months in the carboy in the secondary is not an
unusually long time. It’s best to buy an extra
carboy if you plan to brew this style regularly.
It’s a good idea to prime barley wines
lightly, as there is usually some residual sugar
that will eventually ferment, plus they’re
traditionally just barely sparkling. I recommend
priming with a half-cup of corn sugar at bottling.
If the beer has spent an extended time in the
secondary (more than four months), it may be
advisable to add some fresh yeast when bottling. Note that introducing a vigorously
fermenting yeast at this time can spur more fermentation in the bottle than you really
want. It may be better to add new yeast during the secondary, and allow a few weeks
for it to ferment out before adding to the bottles. Carbonation will take longer with
this style than with ordinary-strength beers, perhaps up to a couple of months.
Most inexperienced brewers follow the maxim, “The beer is ready when you’ve
drunk the last bottle.” If you’re patient, your barley wine will reward you with a gold
star. I recommend stashing a quantity in the basement of a non-drinking relative, and
just forgetting it exists for a year or two. When you remember to retrieve it and
sample it in its most elevated state, your surprise and pleasure will be twice as great.
BIG STYLES
Scottish Wee Heavy The “wee” refers to a small bottle, the traditional package for
the style. The Scots like their beers a touch darker and less bitter than their English
counterparts, and also slightly sweeter. This is accomplished by using a dark base
malt such as mild ale malt along with other dark malts, fewer hops, and lower
fermentation temperatures. A good amount of kettle caramelization adds malty
flavors, so a long, vigorous boil is recommended for this style. Also, during mashing,
starch conversion should take place at a high temperature (154 to 158° F or 68 to 70°
C) to produce a less-fermentable wort.
Barley wine This designation was invented by Bass in 1903, but now is applied to
most English-style ales of 1.075 (18 °P) strength and over (in Britain, even weaker
beers will sometimes wear this label). There are few defining characteristics to the
style, other than top fermentation and blinding strength. Color and hop rates vary
widely, but a typical example will be a deep shimmering amber, sweet when young,
and balanced by a large quantity of hops.
Imperial Stout This was a style once sold by the English to the Imperial Czarist court
of Russia. It is just what you might expect of an ultra-strong stout: jet-black, thick,
rich, and blisteringly hoppy at 70 to 125 IBU (normal beers are in the 20 to 40 IBU
range), although some modern interpretations are much milder. Gravities start at 1.075
(18 °P) and go as high as beer can go, up to 1.120 (29 °P)!
Dwarf Ale Glass, c. 1800
Strong October beers were drunk from tiny glasses like this. Shown actual size.
DRAGON’S MILK: ENGLISH OCTOBER BEER
It’s the stuff of legend, the muse of poets, the nectar of the gents. Strong beer,
brilliant as topaz, sweet as dew, and dripping with the perfume of hops, was for
centuries a revered icon of English culture. In typical language-loving English style
these beers were nicknamed angel’s-food, clamber-skull, huffcap, and more.
October beer was the most laudable product of country brewing, specifically
country house brewing. Beer wasn’t a readily transportable product in the oxcart era,
so the maintenance of an estate, large or small, required beer to be brewed on the
premises.
Edwardian Pub Sign for McMullen’s Ales in London.
The country always had a reputation for better strong ales than the city.
From about 1600 to 1900, there were four classes of
beers brewed on estates, although not all kinds were
brewed by every brewer. On the bottom was weak and
watery small beer, usually the last runnings of
whatever was being brewed, although occasionally
brewed on its own in summer months. Next up the
scale in strength was “table” beer, what we today
would regard as ordinary strength, roughly in the
1.050 (12 °P) (4.5-percent alcohol) range. Next was
March and October beer at about 1.080 (19 °P),
followed by rarely brewed “double” beers, well over
1.100 (24 °P) (9-percent plus), and reserved for special occasions (see p.
135).
Beer was allotted according to employment or familial status on the estates.
Everyone was allowed liberal access to the weak, small beer as a means of providing a
safe form of water. The table beer was doled out as part of employment contracts, as
was the stronger beer—although, as you would expect, much less liberally. It was a
point of civility that the family drank the same small beer as everyone else, and no
upgraded version was made strictly for their use. Of course, they had access to the
stronger stuff whenever they wanted it.
Before the invention of refrigeration, brewing was much more strictly tied to the
whims of the seasons, both on the brewing and consuming sides of the tun. The
summer heat, availability of ingredients, and the need for large amounts of
quenching— but not too intoxicating—brews in the summer, and warming ones in the
winter, all played a part.
October was generally regarded as the best month to brew. The barley harvest
was in, so new malt was available and was widely believed to contribute to a beer that
kept very well. Fresh hops added their own special charms, although they were
usually mixed with the last of the old crop. Cooler fermentation temperatures made
long-aged beers less vulnerable to frets and souring than March beers. And by
October, the strong beer made in the previous year was starting to be tapped, so the
necessity of brewing its replacement became obvious.
October and March beers are identical, except for the use of last year’s malt and
hops, and the warm summertime fermentations that gave March beer a lesser
reputation for quality than October. The old recipes vary a bit, but generally agree that
only the very top grade of ingredients should be used. Malt is invariably of the pale
“white” variety, and contemporary diatribes about the evil noxiousness of “smoak”
make it clear that there would have been little of it evident in a well-made beer. Hops,
too, were of the best quality, which in England has long meant East Kent Goldings.
An instructive commercial example is J.W. Lee’s Harvest Ale, made solely from the
two aforementioned ingredients. Considering its utterly simplistic recipe, it is a beer
of startling depth, and an object lesson for a brewer at any level. Of course its name
bears directly on our subject here.
These English strong beers were well-aged. William Harrison observed in 1587,
“The beer that is used at noblemen’s tables in their fixed and standing houses is
commonly of a year old, or peradventure of two year’s running or more, but this is not
general.” This pattern continued as long as the house-breweries did. Typically the beer
was brewed in October, fermented for a month or so, then transferred into barrels
where it was stoppered loosely, then closed up tight when activity ceased. Often the
bung had to be loosened the next summer as fermentation restarted in the warm
weather.
In the late seventeenth century, as England and France tangled again, taxes on
hops, malt, and other aspects of brewing were rearranged, which had the effect of
reducing the relative cost of hops, up to that time fairly high. This put the final nail in
the coffin of the old style sweetish “ales,” sparking a rage for hoppy beers.
Every imaginable scheme for using hops was employed, and it is clear that there
was a lot of variation in resulting bitterness. If we’re going to use the high hop
quantities called for in the old recipes, it is a good idea to use them in a less efficient
way, like charging a hop back or adding a healthy portion of them at the end of the
boil.
All the old texts stress the importance of cleanliness, no mean task when
everything is made of wood. Scrubbing and scalding seem to have been the primary
weapons in their fight. Any English ale yeast will serve, as long as it has the ability to
handle a relatively high gravity wort. I would recommend making up as large a starter
as you can manage.
Remedies for Soured Beer in 18th Century England
Chalk
Beechwood ashes
Ivory shavings
Crab eyes
Deer horn
Calcined tortoise shells
Alkalized coral
Ground oyster shells
Beer fermented in wood will inevitably show some wild character from
microorganisms living therein, but it is clear from numerous references that sour beer
was not a thing of beauty. Harrison, again: “...each one coveting to have the [beer]
stale as he may, so that it not be sour, and his bread new as possible, so that it not be
hot.” A taste of Gale’s Prize Old Ale or Greene King Strong Suffolk Ale will reveal
hints of the “horsey” Brettanomyces character that usually accompanies wood aging
of beer.
There are a couple of ways to achieve the wood-aged character. One is to add a
Brettanomyces or mixed lambic starter after you rack to the secondary, or some
months before bottling. These are slow-moving organisms and take a few months to
make an impact, but they will continue to get stronger as the months and years go by.
Another method would be to inoculate a gallon or so of beer with the wild stuff, wait a
few months, then pasteurize by heating to 150° F (65.5° C) for half an hour, then
allow it to cool and add to the beer before bottling. The easiest solution would be to
add a bottle or two of a beer such as Rodenbach, which will contribute a slight tang
and a noseful of wild, wood-aged character, but that is definitely cheating.
The earliest real recipe I have is from Gervaise Markham, The English
Housewife, published in 1615:
“Now for the brewing of the best March beer you shall allow to a
hogshead thereof a quarter of the best malt well ground: then you shall
take a peck of pease, half a peck of wheat, and half a peck of oats and
grind them all very well together, and mix them with your malt: which
done, you shall in all points brew this beer as you did the former
ordinary beer; only you shall allow a pound and a half of hops to this
one hogshead: and whereas before you drew but two sorts of beer, so
now shall you draw three; that is a hogshead of the best, and a hogshead
of the second, and half a hogshead of small beer without any
augmentation of hops or malt.”
In a 5-gallon batch, this works out to 19 pounds (8.6 kilograms) of pale malt, 1.25
lbs (0.6 kg) split peas, plus 10 ounces (283 grams) each of unmalted wheat, oats. Hops
comes to 1.75 ounces (50 grams) for the batch.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.088 (21 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 7.3 to 8.4%
Color: Golden amber
Bitterness: 74 IBU
Yeast: Alcohol-tolerant English ale
Maturation: 6 to 12 months
All-Grain Recipe:
10.0 lb (4.5 kg) 100%Maris Otter pale malt
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops:
3.0 oz (85 g)90 min
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)30 min
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)end of boil East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
RECIPE
Dragon’s Milk October Beer
Thanks to my original brewing partner, Ray Spangler, for allowing me to share this recipe with you.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.091 (22 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 7.3 to 8.4%
Color: Deep copper, 18 SRM
Bitterness: 107 IBU
Yeast: Alcohol-tolerant English ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 months
Mash with infusion technique, one-hour rest at 152 to 154° F (66.5 to 68° C). Collect 6 to 7 gallons of
wort and boil down to 5 gallons. Add the malt extract during the boil.
All-Grain Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)41%
mild ale or Vienna malt
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)28%
pale ale malt
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)21%
pale dried malt extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)7%
medium (40-60°L) crystal malt, preferably imported
0.5 lb (227 g)3%
biscuit/amber malt
Extract + Mini Mash Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)63%
pale dried malt extract
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)21%
mild ale or Vienna malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)11%
medium (40-60°L) crystal malt, preferably imported
0.5 lb (227g)5%
Biscuit (or pale malt, home-roasted 20 min @ 350° F)
Hops:
1.5 oz (43 g)
90 minNorthern Brewer (7% AA)
1.0 oz (28g)
90 minEast Kent Goldings (5% AA)
1.0 oz (28g)
30 minNorthern Brewer (7% AA)
RECIPE
My Old Flame Barley Wine
2.5 oz (71 g)
30 min
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
30 min
Cascade (6% AA)
1.5 oz (43 g)
end of boil
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
end of boil
Cascade (6% AA)
I have a number of later recipes that have certain similarities, but rather than
average them into a detailed October beer recipe, I’m going to give you a little chart
of the recipes and their dates and let you select exactly where you want to take this
yourself.
“Best quality” malt these days means Maris Otter, a much-prized barley variety
cultivated in small quantities in England. Use that if you can get it.
These malt numbers are reduced by about 25 percent from the original recipes to
account for the increased yield of modern malt. Mash-in relatively thick, at 1 quart per
pound, and try to get a rest temperature of about 153° F (67° C). After an hour, add
boiling water to mash out at around 168° F (75.5° C).
October Beer Ingredient Quantities (per 5 gallons)
Date Author
Lb/kg Malt
Oz/g Hops
1727 Bradley
29/13.2
3.7/105
1748 Bradshaw
29/13.2
9.8/278
1783 Poole
26/11.7
7.4/210
ONE MAJESTIC BEER: IMPERIAL PALE ALE
“Imperial” is a term normally applied to beers that were brewed in Britain, then
shipped to the court—the Imperial court—of the Russian Empire during the
nineteenth century. This obscure but delicious style has nothing to do with that bit of
history.
Imperial Pale Ale is a testament to the genius of American brewers of old, and
also to American beer marketers, who, like it or not, are the most successful in the
world. This willingness to inventively bend beer recipes and names to fit the times
continues to this day, evidenced by the vitality of the craft beer scene
I became intrigued by the style from an old book I picked up recently, a privately
published paean to Albany, New York brewer John Taylor, printed shortly after his
death in 1863. One section, entitled A Runlet of Ale, is a long-winded rhyme about the
joys of Taylor’s ale. Here’s a snippet:
“Among the ales most famed in story,
From Adam’s down-or old or new-
There’s none possessing half the glory,
Or half the life of Taylor’s brew.
Their ‘amber’ brand is light and cheery,
Their “XX” is strong though pale,
But give to me, when dull and weary,
Their cream, imperial “Astor” ale.”
Brewery Trade Card, c. 1900
The term “Imperial” was frequently applied to a brewery’s more luxurious products.
Imperial pale ale is a variation of an American ale style called stock ale—strong,
hoppy beers designed to be stored some time before drinking. The Wahl Henius
American Handy Book (1901) lists these at somewhere between 16 and 19 °P, or
1.066 to 1.079 O.G. Hopping was high at 2 to 3 pounds per barrel, or 1 to 1.5 ounces
per gallon, not including the dry hops. This calculates out at about 70 to 100 IBU—
lippeelingly bitter. As a warped point of reference, British Burton ales of the day were
hoppier still, at an astonishing 3.5 to 4 pounds per barrel!
The addition of up to 25 percent sugar was the rule with stock ales. Dumped in
the kettle with the last hop addition, sugar reduced the flavor intensity as well as the
bottom line. This is a good thing, as some sugar in the recipe keeps strong beers from
being overwhelmingly rich and malty, making them lighter on the palate and
reasonably quaffable.
Fermentation of stock ale was with ale yeast, at a fairly high 70° F (21° C), which
would have produced a beer with some seriously fruity aromatics.
Of late, this style has been re-crafted by at least a couple of small breweries in
this country. Rogue, in Salem, Oregon brews an Imperial India Pale Ale. Big, at 1.083
(20 °P), and satisfyingly hoppy at 53 IBU, it’s aged nine months before leaving the
brewery. Their “12PA” is brewed with two-row Pipkin pale malt, Saaz, Cascade, and
Northwest Golding hops. Three Floyds Brewery of Munster, Indiana brews another
pretty satisfying one, with a blast of hops just about countered by a massive malt
profile. It’s an experience.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.076 (18 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 6 to 7%
Color: Tawny gold
Bitterness: 85 IBU
Yeast: Alcohol-tolerant English ale
Maturation: 4 to 6 months
Ferment at 65 to 70° F (18.5 to 21° C) with your favorite British-style yeast, and add the dry hops when
you rack to the secondary, or into your keg. If at all possible, try to age this beer for six months or more
RECIPE
Running Dog Imperial Pale Ale
before consuming. A beer like this will age very gracefully, turning into something genuinely royal by
about its fifth birthday. Dosing it with a Brettanomyces culture would lend an authentic touch if you plan
on aging it for more than six months.
All-Grain Recipe:
7.5 lb (3.4 kg)58%
American two-row Pilsener malt
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)31%
British pale ale malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)11%
turbinado or demerara sugar, added to the kettle
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
6.25 lb (2.8 kg)69%
pale dry malt extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)11%
Cara-Pils malt
0.75 lb (340 g)8%
Pale crystal malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)11%
turbinado or demerara sugar, added to the kettle
Hops:
1.5 oz (43 g)
90 min
Cluster (7% AA)
0.75 oz (22 g)
30 min
Cluster (7% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
30 min
Goldings (U.S.-grown) (4.5% AA)
1.25 oz (35 g)
10 min
Goldings (U.S.-grown) (4.5% AA)
0.75 oz (22 g)
in secondary
Goldings (U.S. or East Kent)
DOBLE-DOBLE
This is a technique used as early as Elizabethan times (and possibly earlier) for
the production of strong beers. At times brewers were forbidden to brew them, as they
were considered wasteful of malt and men alike. The process is straightforward. A
mash is made as for a normal beer, then the runoff wort, instead of being boiled, is
heated to strike temperature and then used as the liquor for a second mash. This
concentrates the wort in a way no single mash can, and the resulting worts were
usually well over 1.100 (24 °P) in gravity.
During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, strong brews were produced in
private house breweries to celebrate special events. A double beer might be brewed at
the birth of a son, then saved and savored when he reached his majority.
“Now Double Ale or Beer is the two first Worts, used in the place
of Liquor, to Mash again on Fresh Malt, and then doth it only
extract the Sweet, the Friendly, Balsamick Qualities there-from,
its Hunger being partly satisfied before, whereby its Particles are
rendered globical, so as to defend themselves from Corruption,
for being thus being brewed it may be transported to the Indies,
retaining its full Goodness...”
— William Worth, 1692
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.120 (29 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 9 to 10.5%
Color: Pale gold
Bitterness: 72 IBU
Yeast: Alcohol-tolerant English ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 months
All-Grain Recipe:
20.0 lb (9.1 kg)91%
Maris Otter pale malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)9%
biscuit/Amber malt
No equivalent extract recipe, but 13 lb (5.9 kg) of dry extract will get you up to the same strength
Hops:
4.0 oz (113 g)
90 minEast Kent Goldings (5% AA)
3.0 oz (85 g)
30 minEast Kent Goldings (5% AA)
RECIPE
Ignoble Doble-Doble
2.0 oz (57 g)
end of boil
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
dry hop
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
Divide the grain into two equal parts, and load one half into the mash tun. Mash in with 1.5 quarts of hot
water per pound (0.64 liters per kilogram) for a mash temperature of 152° F (66.5° C). Mash for one
hour. After recirculating the cloudy wort until it runs clear, run off the wort. Sparge with just enough hot
water to collect 4 gallons and run it into the kettle. Heat back up to strike temperature. In the meantime,
clean out the mash tun and recharge it with the remaining half of the grist. Repeat the mashing procedure,
and sparge to collect 6 gallons of wort.
There will still be some recoverable extract in the grain. The English would typically “cap” the mash with
more (2 pounds, or 0.90 kilograms) biscuit malt and run off a normal session ale, and you can do this if
you like.
TOWARD A PORTLIKE BEER
Some of the old brewing books mention a skin-forming kamm yeast, especially in
regard to the dictbiers (thick beers) such as danziger jopenbier (see p. 254), although I
can’t find a normal drinking beer that employed it. The word kamm literally means
“comb,” as Bosco’s brewer Fred Scheer told me, because it may be skimmed off the
surface with a combing motion. The word also means “crest,” as in the comb on a
rooster, and these yeasts do indeed form a film on the surface.
Some of the more adventurous beers being made are
almost port-like—Cuvée de Tomme from Pizza Port’s
Tomme Arthur comes to mind. Why not close the loop and
introduce yeasts that will add the wonderful nutlike aroma
found in port and sherry? Well, here we give it a shot. Just
so you know, this recipe is strictly experimental, and if
complicated beers turn you off, you might as well turn the
page right now.
We’re going to brew a strong ruby-colored wort using
an old Kulmbach mashing technique that will produce a
rather under-attenuated beer. Because we’re going to
expose the beer to oxidative conditions later, and because dark malt melanoidins can
be involved in these oxidation reactions, potentially producing cardboardy flavors,
we’re going to get much of our color from cooked sugar, perfectly traditional for
beers such as the sour Flanders red ales. We’ll be adjusting the acidity and alcohol
levels and finally fermenting with sherry yeast and warm-aging it with a large amount
of headspace, then bottling it uncarbonated, like wine. Goofy enough for you?
This will be a 2.5-gallon (9.5-liter) recipe.
Let’s start with the cooked sugar. Take a pound of ordinary refined white sugar
and place it in a heavy saucepan or skillet with one-fourth cup (60 milliliters) of water
over medium heat. Allow the sugar to melt. At a certain point the water will boil away
and the temperature of the sugar will start to rise. If you must stir, do so gently to
avoid recrystallizing the sugar. After several minutes you will notice the color start to
change. At this point, keep a careful watch on it, as the color change will happen more
rapidly. The sugar will start to smoke as it darkens, but keep going. When it reaches
the color of light molasses, you’re done. It will have a taste like toasted
marshmallows. At this point you can either dump it into your brew pot or into a pan
lined with nonstick foil to let it harden for later use. It will keep indefinitely.
If you’re using extract, try to find a brand that has a low proportion of
fermentables—under 70 percent. And as always, freshness is very important in liquid
extract. You’ll need 11 pounds (5 kilometers) of liquid, or 9.5 pounds (4.3 kilograms)
of dry. At the start of the boil, there should be 3 gallons (11.4 liters) in the kettle.
For the mashed version:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg) Pils malt
6.0 lb (2.7 kg) Munich malt
The mash procedure is one that was used to produce very full, rich-tasting beers.
The malt is mashed in with 122° F (50° C) water—let’s say 1.25 quarts per pounds
(0.53 liters per kilogram). A little (0.5 to 1 gallon, or 2 to 4 liters) boiling water is
added to bring the temperature up to 130 to 132° F (54.5° C), and then the mash is
allowed to rest for half an hour. At this point, a couple of gallons (8 liters) of liquid
from the mash is run off into the kettle and given a fifteen-minute boil, and then
returned to the kettle, where it should bring the mash up to 162° F (72° C), the high
end of the mashing range. After another half an hour, the mash is drained normally,
and 3 gallons of wort is run off into the kettle and boiled. Because of the small batch
size and desired high gravity, we will not be sparging.
To the kettle add the cooked sugar and 1.5 ounces (43 grams) of Northern Brewer
hops (figured as whole; use 1 ounce or 28 grams if pellets). We are strictly looking for
bitterness here and not a lot of aroma character. Boil for an hour, then cool and pitch
the sherry yeast. I recommend you use Vierka liquid sherry yeast. If your shop doesn’t
carry this obscure item, just do a search and you’ll come up with an Internet supplier.
Dried sherry yeasts are also available.
Conduct the primary at room temperature, between 68 and 72° F (20 to 22° C).
When it settles down, rack it into another carboy, and add the following ingredients
for adjustment:
2.0 oz (118 ml) food grade lactic acid (80 percent) or equivalent
Alcohol, your choice of:
16.0 oz (473 ml) 190 proof spirits
34.0 oz (1.0 L) 90 proof vodka, unflavored schnapps or Irish whiskey
40.0 oz (1.2 L) 80 proof, ditto
These adjustments should give the yeast conditions suitable for the sherry flor to
form on the surface, which helps with the development of the nutty, pleasantly
oxidized flavors we’re looking for. At this time you can add a small handful of toasted
French or Hungarian oak cubes
if you like. Move the carboy to a
warm place— an attic or a furnace room, because contrary to normal practice, we’re
trying to oxidize the wine. Aging under these conditions should take from six months
to a year. If you want to get your acidity naturally, you can use whatever Belgian wild
yeast mix strikes your fancy instead of the lactic acid, but I would expect this would
add six months or more to the whole process.
After this time, it should be bottled without carbonation. A beer of this
complexity and strength should be a candidate for long aging, and just like
homebrewers and fine port, only improves with age.
Chapter 11
B
EYOND
B
ARLEY
(STICKY STUFF AND HOW
TO DEAL WITH IT)
O
ne needn’t brew by barley alone.
Any starchy grain or tuber
will serve as an ingredient in beer, even if it would produce a pretty strange brew on
its own. Throughout history brewers have used whatever cereals they could lay their
hands on: maize in the New World; millet in Africa; rice in Asia; rye and oats in the
North; and, of course, all of the various grasses from the Fertile Crescent—barley,
wheat, spelt, and others.
In the modern world, barley is what we’ve settled on, and it does have a lot going
for it. But adjuncts can give you some additional tricks in your bag. Most may be used
in small quantities to lend a little texture and improve the head, and for such uses, they
can be simply tossed into the mash tun.
A waiter pours a highly carbonated weissbier into an immense glass in nineteenth-
century Berlin.
In larger proportions, adjunct grains require special brewing techniques. Most
adjunct grains are not readily available in malted form, which means unless you want
to malt them yourself, you’ll have to deal with them unmalted. This means a more
intensive cooking process, often with some boiling of the grain, and careful
formulation of the rest of the grain bill to make sure there are sufficient enzymes to
convert all the starch in the mash tun, as the unmalted grains won’t be helping with
this. Additionally, most adjunct grains are threshed free of their protective husks,
which means that a filtering aid such as rice hulls will be needed.
Most have less assertive flavors than barley malt. Corn and rice are particularly
bland, but in large amounts they do lend a certain character—consider the difference
between Bud (rice) and Miller (corn). Rye is particularly zippy, with a peppery
spiciness. Oats are pretty bland unless toasted lightly, when a lovely cookie-like
aroma develops, although in either state they contribute an oily viscosity that’s hard to
miss.
All of the grains with a decent protein level—everything but rice and maize—also
aid in head retention, and this is one of the more common uses for them. A typical
proportion for this is 2 to 5 percent of a recipe.
WHEAT
Wheat is the most important grain next to barley, at least in the Western tradition.
Three forms existed in the ancient world: emmer, einkorn, and spelt. Emmer gave rise
to durum wheat, mostly used in pasta; the bread wheat we know today derives from a
cross between spelt and einkorn. Einkorn is an ancient variety cultivated widely
beginning about 7600 B.C.E. in Asia Minor before spreading quickly through Europe.
In its ancient form, einkorn, like barley, did not thresh free of its hulls and had a
weaker form of gluten than emmer or spelt, making it less suitable for bread. Both of
these characteristics would have been likely to make it a better ingredient for brewing.
It was soon displaced from the mainstream by the better-yielding wheats, but has been
cultivated by peasants in the backwaters right up to the present.
American Adjunct Mash Procedure
This was developed in the late nineteenth century as a way of using corn and rice as
inexpensive adjuncts for mainstream American lager beer. The process is still used
today by industrial brewers around the world.
This mash will work with recipes of up to about 60-percent unmalted adjuncts, which
can be corn, rice, wheat, oats, rye, or anything else, the remainder being barley malt.
At higher adjunct levels (40 percent and over), you should consider using some—or
all—six-row malt, as it has higher enzyme levels than two-row.
In addition to your mash tun, you will need a vessel large enough to cook all of your
unmalted grain plus a pound or two of malted barley. Since this stuff wants to stick
and burn, you are better off with an aluminum pot rather than a stainless one. Or you
might go for a sort of brewer’s “flame tamer” and place a thick sheet (1/8” to 1/4”) of
aluminum, brass, or copper on the burner beneath your pot to distribute the heat. This
works like a dream with flat-bottomed pots. Keeping the adjunct mash fairly liquid (2
to 3 quarts per pound) also helps to avoid scorching.
The process involves raising up the unmalted grain through the normal series of
temperature rests to do whatever sort of conversions are possible on the way to
boiling. See the chart for specifics. This should be done on a stove and monitored
closely. Frequent, gentle stirring is advised. Once the various rests are finished, the
mash should be brought to a gentle boil that should be held for about fifteen minutes.
This adjunct mash is then glorped into the malt mash, which should be waiting at
protein rest temperature—122° F. You might want to mix in no more than two-thirds
of your adjunct mash at first, then stir it up and see what the rest temperature will be.
You will be shooting for a saccharification temperature that will vary according to
your recipe. If it looks like adding the whole boiling adjunct portion will overshoot
the temperature, then add as much as you can and allow the rest to cool, or force it
down with some cool water.
At the end of saccharification, add the rice hulls or wheat husks, mash out by adding
hot water until you hit 170 to 180° F, and finally sparge as you would any mash.
Wheat has a more limited growing range than barley, and at times in history there
has been tension between the two grains, with the brewing of wheat beer being
restricted so as not to limit the supplies available for baking bread. Or, as in Bavaria,
it was held as the exclusive privilege of royalty, limiting its consumption through a
monopoly.
The qualities that make it so great for baking bread—naked kernels and lots of
gluten—make wheat a challenge to deal with in the brewery. Wheat may be malted
just like barley, and contains everything you need to make a fine beer on its own.
There are many classic styles showcasing this grain.
In the glass, wheat’s abundant protein gives beer a soft, creamy texture without
the sweetness added by barley malt. As a result, wheat beers can be both substantial
and refreshing. These qualities have been exploited by brewers of low-gravity styles
like Berliner weisse for a quenching beer that can be quaffed in large quantities
without tasting thin and watery.
Wheat beers can be made in any strength including wheat wine, but I find that
wheat ages quickly and doesn’t have the staying power of barley-based beers. It tastes
good—just don’t let it sit around too long.
Malted wheat is available through the usual homebrewing channels, and unmalted
soft wheat is sold at your local hippie food market. There are two types suitable for
brewing: a red, rolled variety, usually with small corrugations pressed into it; and a
large, soft, white whole-kernel variety. Both work fine, and may also be identified by
a low protein content (under 13 percent). Often this is posted at the shop, but is also
indicated by a chalky opacity, as opposed to a flinty or waxy translucency found in
higher-protein types.
Sorghum,
Sorghum bicolor
Rye,
Secale cereale
ADJUNCT GRAINS FOR BREWING
Unmalted grain yields relatively little character when mashed with a standard
infusion mash. Something a little more vigorous is needed to coax out the wheatiness,
and the classic American adjunct mash (see sidebar) seems to do the trick nicely. It’s a
little more complex than an infusion, but well worth the effort if you want to use raw
grains in any quantity over about 10 percent. If you are short on time, you can skip the
preliminary ramp-up and just go right to boiling the grain. It’s still better than adding
raw wheat to an infusion mash.
All unmalted grains should be ground to a kind of grits texture, as there’s no fear
of mincing the husks as with barley malt. I use a separate mill for this, a pin-mill
coffee grinder from an old grocery store. It does an abominable job on malt, but it’s
great for this when screwed down to the tightest setting.
Two other things will make your life as an adjunct brewer bearable. First, use rice
hulls as a filter aid when sparging. These can be stirred into your mash at the
beginning or the end, and they make a huge difference. One pound of hulls for every 5
pounds of adjunct is about right. Wheat husks or other similar materials will work just
as well if you come across them. Second, be sure to keep the mash nice and hot while
sparging—above 165° F, (but below 180° F or 82° C). This will help keep things
liquefied and flowing; the bed can start to gel at lower temperatures making sparging
tortuously slow. Add boiling water at the end of saccharification to mash out at 170°
F.
Also be aware that the high levels of protein in most unmalted adjuncts will form
a haze in your beer, most noticeably when chilled. It’s not a big deal for most
homebrewers, and after a few weeks in the fridge it will settle out. But if you want a
cold yet crystal clear beer, you’d best leave out the wheat, or plan on filtering the
beer.
CLASSIC BAVARIAN WEIZEN
Few pleasures can top a luminous vase of weissbier, quaffed amidst the hop-
dappled light of a quiet beer garden. And if it’s a weissbier you have brewed yourself,
the pleasure is doubled.
Eleusine coracana
Adjunct Grains Used in Brewing
GRAIN
COMMENTS & DESCRIPTION
AMARANTH
Amaranthus caudatus
A New World grain, sacred to the Maya, Aztec, and Inca. Made up of 15 to 17
percent protein, 7 percent oil, and gluten-free. Strong, nutty herb taste, a little
like buckwheat. Three times more fiber than wheat, which generally spells
trouble when sparging.
BARLEY(unmalted)
Hordeum species
Nearly flavorless grain used as a cheap adjunct at times in Britain. Also can
function as an aid to head retention (5 percent of batch).
BUCKWHEAT(kasha)
Fagopyrum esculentum
Central Asian origin, but brought to America by Dutch settlers. Not related to
wheat, but to sorrel and rhubarb. Made up of 12 percent protein. Gluten-free.
Buckwheat has a fairly strong aroma due in some part to the presence of capric
and capryllic acids that can contribute sweaty or goaty aromas. It’s also
relatively high in fat that may eventually become rancid, so long storage should
be avoided. Available in health food stores and ethnic markets specializing in
eastern European or Jewish products as both roasted and unroasted kasha. A
few hundred years ago it was a key ingredient in a popular Dutch black beer.
Included in small quantities in some interpretations of white beer. Occasionally
added to kvass (see
. Not available in malted form.
KAMUT
Triticum turgidum
Closely related to durum wheat, which means lots of protein and very hard,
flinty texture. Not very well suited for beer brewing. It is consumable by people
with wheat allergies, so there may be some use along these lines.
MAIZE (corn)
Zea mays
Originated and domesticated in Mexico or Central America. Tesgüino, made from
malted corn, and chicha, made from unmalted corn and saccharified through the
addition of human saliva, usually by chewing the grains before brewing.
MILLET
Various species
Several plants fall under this name, the most common of which, Pennisetum, or pearl
millet, comprises three species: P. typhoides, P. typhideum, and P. americanum. Millet
is the small, round grain familiar to us as parakeet food. It’s a hardy crop, more tolerant
of heat, drought, and poor soil than most other grains. Other types include: finger millet
(Eleusine coracana); Proso or common millet (Panicum miliaceum); foxtail millet
(Setaria italica); tef (Eragosis tef, a small Ethiopian form sometimes seen in specialty
stores); white and black fonio (Digitaria exilis and D. iburia); and guinea millet
(Brachiaria deflexa). There are others of lesser importance. Overall, flavor is pretty
delicate. Millets have a long-standing role in beer brewing, especially in eastern and
southern Africa. Pombe (Swahili, meaning “beer”) contains an unusual yeast,
Schizosaccharomyces pombe, used to ferment this indigenous brew. It is reported to
product a strong, sulfury nose along with a lot of other disagreeable aromas. S. pombe
diverged from brewing yeast 1.1 billion years ago. A convenience product made from
red millet called King’s Brew Beer Powder is sold in South Africa by King Food
Corporation, and is used just like our powdered malt extract. Pearl millet averages
around 11 percent protein.
OATS
Avena sativa(less commonly A.
byzania)
Used in unmalted form as an adjunct to barley malt beers, where it adds a thick,
somewhat oily texture, and as an aid in head retention. May contribute some chill haze
so not a good choice for beers that will be served cold. Comprised of 16 percent protein
and lots of gums, so sparging can be difficult. For most recipes oats are used as 5 to 10
percent of the grist. The “instant” product is precooked and has the smallest flakes;
rolled and old fashioned are also pre-cooked. All may be added directly to the mash.
Other forms need precooking.
OAT MALT
Avena sativa
An antique sort of product. Widely used in pre-industrial Britain, oat malt is used to
make oatmeal stout, and as a head-improving adjunct in paler beers. Less intense in
character than raw oats, it is also much easier to deal with in the brewery. Protein levels
are lower (10.5 percent), and malting does deal with some of the goopy stuff. Oat malt
diastase contains mostly beta amylase, which means it will produce more fermentable
worts than barley malt. Oat malt has the husk attached, making the use of rice hulls
unnecessary. Oats were usually used to brew weak beers that were consumed quickly.
Edinborough and Yorkshire were noted for their oat ales in the eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries.
QUINOA
Chenopodium quinoa
Played an important role in the diet of the Incas—who called it the “mother grain”—
and other Andean people. Not a grass as are many other grains, quinoa is related to
spinach and beets. At 13-percent protein, which is present in a highly complete form,
quinoa is a highly nutritious food, and is quite delicious. It is free of gluten, and some
recent efforts have been focused on its use as the basis of a commercial beer for that
special dietetic market. There is some traditional use in beermaking, especially as an
adjunct to chicha, which is largely made from various types of maize.
RICE
Oryza sativa
Familiar wet-cultivated grain crop, the solid base of the food pyramid in Asia. Long
tradition of rice beer (saké) and spirits in east Asia. Use in beer began in the United
States and Britain in the nineteenth century as an inexpensive adjunct. American
varieties have been bred largely for the beer industry, and thus have almost no flavor or
aroma. Many other more interesting culinary varieties may be found in specialty stores.
Basmati has a delicate nutty aroma, almost popcorn-like; Jasmine hints at the flower of
the same name; Chinese black is a short grain rice with a deep purple outer layer that
retains its color when cooled, and might make for a lovely lavender pils. The North
American “wild rice” is not rice at all, as noted later in the chapter.
RICE HULLS
Not an adjunct per se, but the inert outer husks of rice that are used as a lautering aid for
sticky or huskless grains such as wheat, rye, or others. One pound of hulls per 5 pounds
of adjunct is about right, although you could use more with no harm.
RYE
Secale cereale
Hardy northern grain capable of growing in regions where few others will. Long
association with beer in Russia and Scandinavia, as a grain to turn to in hard times.
Sharp, peppery, spicy aromas, with an oily texture due to plenty of sticky glucans,
which make lautering a chore. This usually restricts its use to no more than 20 percent
of the grist. Malted versions are available in both pale and chocolate roasted (200 to 300
°SRM) versions. Unmalted rye must be cooked before using, and a thirty-minute glucan
rest at 95 to 100° F is advisable at the start of the mash to help break down the sticky
stuff. Rice hulls as a filtering aid are a must when sparging either type. Be patient.
SORGHUM
Sorghum bicolor
No fewer than twenty-five species, of which only one, Sorghum bicolor, is cultivated.
In the United States, the juice is pressed from the cane, then boiled down and sold as a
Southern culinary specialty. Sorghum beer is a traditional drink in parts of Africa, such
as the shakparo beer of Benin. Such beers are widespread in southern Africa, and are
made from the malted kernels of the plant rather than the juice of the stalk. Often maize
or other ingredients are used as well.
SPELT
Triticum spelta
Closely related to durum wheat, spelt dates back five thousand years or more. It was
mentioned by Saint Hildegard in the twelfth century: “The spelt is the best of grains. It
is rich and nourishing and milder than other grain,” a fact likely backed by its whopping
16 to 19 percent protein content. In Europe, slightly unripe kernels are harvested and
then roasted. Called Grunkern, the kernels are used in soups and bread, and are
sometimes referred to as “German rice.” Spelt does not thresh free like most wheats; it
shares this trait with barley. It has been used to brew beer right from the beginning, with
a tradition of spelt beer as a commercial product in Holland a few hundred years ago.
Revival versions have been made more recently in Holland and Germany. In the mid-
nineteenth century in Liège, Belgium (known as the home of the saison style) a beer
was brewed from 42 percent malted spelt and 58 percent raw wheat. This would
undoubtedly be a goopy beer to brew, and immensely cloudy, but such is the way of
tradition. Weyermann produces a chocolate spelt malt at 450 to 700 °EBC (175 to 250
°L) but it may be hard to find. Otherwise, if you want spelt malt, you’ll have to make it
yourself. It should malt very much like barley.
TRITICALE
Triticum secale
A cross between durum wheat and rye developed in the 1930s to combine the hardiness
of rye with the yield and quality of wheat. Made up of 10 to 13 percent protein. Widely
cultivated in Western Canada, and primarily used for animal feed. Malted triticale
flakes are sold industrially by Edme, although they are not generally available as malt.
A recent study showed that triticale is actually well suited as a brewing adjunct, with an
insignificant increase in wort viscosity at up to 30 percent triticale in a recipe, which
means it won’t make you crazy-outta-your-mind trying to sparge it as rye is guaranteed
to do. Flaked triticale is available through health food channels.
WHEAT (unmalted)
Triticum aestivus
Common wheat is the adjunct of choice for making witbiers and lambics, but is not
central to any other styles. More intense in wheat character than malted wheat, it is also
more difficult to lauter, but can be useful in adding a sense of firm body and as an aid in
head retention, qualities often sought in very lightweight beers. If used in quantities
over 10 percent, raw wheat should be mashed with an adjunct mash procedure, or at the
very least cooked until tender before adding to the mash, and rice hulls really help. Two
sorts are generally available at health food stores: a flaked red type; and a large, soft
white in whole kernel form.
WHEAT MALT
The most familiar high-quality brewing adjunct, the use of wheat in brewing is quite
ancient. Readily malted, wheat adds a certain firm texture—which can be quite
milkshake-like in large quantities—without the kind of heavy sweetness that barley
malt adds. Malted wheat does contain enough enzymes to convert itself, making 100
percent wheat beer a theoretical possibility. The lack of husk and abundance of sticky
gluten make sparging difficult, but this can be dealt with by using good lautering
technique and plenty of rice hulls. Very low in aroma compared to barley malt.
WHEAT (torrified)
Unmalted wheat that has been rapidly heated until the kernels puff up like popcorn.
This gelatinizes the starch and eliminates the need for pre-cooking. Most varieties are
very pale in color, but I have seen amber-colored versions.
WILD RICE
Zizania aquatica
Not a rice, but a native annual grass that thrives in marshy northern regions of North
America. Very dense and slow cooking, it has a pleasant walnut flavor. Protein is high
at about 14 percent, but it doesn’t seem to have a lot of glucans or other complex
carbohydrates that cause slow or stuck sparges. Grind to grits and cook before brewing.
Broken grain sells for a much lower price than whole because of its cosmetically
challenged state, but since you’re just going to grind it up anyway, it’s the better choice
for brewing. Wild rice is a good mystery grain for an English-style bitter, as it can add a
subtle nuttiness that’s hard to achieve otherwise.
WHEAT TYPES
Hard Red Winter Wheat High in protein and strong in gluten, mainly used for
bread. Widely grown in western states.
Hard Red Spring Wheat High in protein, similar to winter wheat, but suited to
different agricultural conditions, especially the short growing season in northern
states. Mainly used for bread, but also made into brewers malt.
Hard White Wheat Hard White Wheat has been grown in Kansas, California,
and Montana. In recent years, much more research has been invested in hard
white wheat so look for an increase in the production of this class of wheat.
Sometimes available as brewers malt.
Soft Red Winter Wheat The most commonly grown wheat east of the
Mississippi. Low in protein, it is used in cakes, crackers, pastries, and makes a
fine material for brewing.
Soft White Wheat Mainly grown in the Pacific Northwest, but also in the upper
Midwest. Similar protein levels and uses as soft red. Also good for brewing.
Durum Wheat The hardest wheat, mainly used to make pasta. Too much
protein for brewing.
Einkorn Primitive wheat form from ancient times. A little more protein than
modern wheat, but weak gluten. Being investigated for suitability as organic
crop in Europe, but not widely available.
Einkorn (left) and Emmer.
Weizen is not the easiest beer in the world to brew. During the long, slow
process, it often picks up additional descriptors, as in “I brewed a damn wheat beer
last weekend.” Soft and subtle enough to amplify all flaws, the brewing challenge is
provided by the naked, glutinous, enzyme-poor kernels. But if you go into it prepared,
with eyes wide open and perhaps a magic ingredient in your bag of tricks, that
refreshing glass of homebrewed wheat beer can be easily within your grasp.
Wheat beer has as long and glorious history as beer itself, and there isn’t space to
do it justice here. In the late medieval era, wheat beers were popular along the North
Sea coast, and were exported widely. In the seventeenth century, a taste for wheat
beer spread south to Bavaria and caught like wildfire among the royalty there, and it is
this interpretation that is the most widespread today.
A well-made Suddeutsche weizen, more frequently referred to as a weissbier, is a
pale, top-fermented beer of ordinary strength, made with between 50 and 60 percent
malted wheat, lightly hopped, and usually unfiltered. Variations include a deep amber
dunkelweizen and a tawny, intense-yet-quaffable weizenbock—one of the loveliest
ways to overdo it that has ever been invented. A unique yeast strain is used for all,
imparting a clove-like phenolic aroma often tinged with bubblegum, banana, and/or
vanilla notes. This yeast is absolutely critical to achieving an authentic Bavarian
weissbier taste.
For extract brewers, dealing with wheat is as simple as opening a package of
wheat extract, but for grain brewers it is more complicated. A wheat beer recipe is a
complex balancing act of flavors, enzymes, proteins, and inert husks needed for
successful lautering. My life took a dramatic turn for the better due to the availability
of rice hulls at my local homebrew store. These little slivers of joy might as well be
called “Sparge Magic.” They turn wheat brewing from sheer drudgery to total delight,
and actually make any mash easier to sparge.
Wheat doesn’t possess an overabundance of starch-converting enzymes, but it
does have enough to convert itself. The barley malt that makes up the other half
should be of a pale color, and should be chosen for the quality of its flavor. I usually
do as the Germans do and use a German Pils malt.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.053 (13 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.2 to 4.9%
Color: Pale gold
Bitterness: 14 IBU
Yeast: Bavarian Weizen
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
The beer may be served cloudy, or as the Germans say “Mit hefe” (that’s “hay-fuh” to you). Or, you can
filter or let it settle naturally for a nice kristal. Either way, it’s heaven in a glass.
All-Grain Recipe:
4.75 lb (2.2 kg)49%
wheat malt
3.75 lb (1.7 kg)35%
six-row lager malt
1 lb (0.45 kg)16%
Munich malt
1 lb (0.45 kg)—
rice hulls
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
6.25 lb (2.84 kg)93%
liquid wheat malt extract
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)7%
dry pale malt extract
RECIPE
Garden of Wheat’n Bavarian Weizen
Hops:
0.5 oz (14 g)
60 min
Tettnang (4% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
30 min
Tettnang hops (4% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
end of boil
Tettnang hops (4% AA)
Try to maintain fermentation temperature between 60 and 67° F. It can go warmer, but the yeast may
produce excessive amounts of fruitiness and other intrusive flavors. Carbonation should be on the high
side; I recommend 6 ounces per 5 gallons of corn sugar, or just shy (nine-tenths) of a full cup. If you’re
gassing up the draft, get as much carbonation as you can without excessive foaming. Somewhere around
15 psi is probably about right.
Weissbier was very popular in this country in the late 1800s.
Start with a glucan rest at 95 to 100° F (which should make sparging easier), then
step up to a protein rest for thirty to sixty minutes at about 122° F. Some brewers
replace that with a rest at 111 to 113° F (44 to 45° C) to emphasize production of
ferulic acid, a precursor to the signature clove-scented chemical 4-vinyl guiacol. A
single or double decoction mash is traditional for weizen production, and as usual, it
heightens malty grain-derived flavors. If you are using a basic infusion mash, near-
boiling water can be added after the glucan and protein rests to raise the mash
temperature up to the next step.
I usually hold off adding the rice hulls until I’m ready to set the bed for sparging.
Tettnangs are usually my hop of choice, as their delicate spiciness comes through
without imparting any heavy, resiny tastes to the beer. The newer variety Santiam
would also be appropriate, although its higher alpha acid content means lower
quantities should be used. Any German-style hop would be an authentic choice, but
remember, this is not a beer built upon hops. Just a little spice, a little balance.
I have specified dry malt extracts for this recipe, because they give you the best
chance of creating a pale beer. Liquid extracts may be used in 20 to 25 percent greater
quantities (to account for the added water), but be sure they are fresh, as malt syrup
darkens considerably with age. Domestic extracts seem to be fresher than imported.
Ask your homebrew supplier.
Marketers are always looking to class up their products, this time with an... uh... elf?
A distinct style of weissbier with aspirations to the famous bubbly was once popular in
Germany.
Brewery Sign, c. 1910
This shows the pale color and the improbably long-necked traditional bottle.
GOSEBIER OF JENA
Gose is German white beer that almost disappeared. It has been revived, and at
this writing, is even available in the United States. It is a hazy, sourish beer similar to
Belgian (Louvain) witbier, brewed from barley and wheat malts plus a small amount
of oats. And like witbier, it is lightly hopped and seasoned with coriander. A unique
addition is salt, and at certain taverns around Leipzig, Germany, the beer can be
ordered at different salt levels. Salt isn’t as strange an ingredient as it sounds; it can
add a subtle richness or palate-fullness to an otherwise weak or watery beer.
Air-dried malt was the traditional base; this was replaced by kilned Pilsener malt
by the mid- to late nineteenth century. Spontaneous fermentation was updated to more
reliable pure cultures during the same time period.
Like many weissbiers, gose was primarily a bottled beer, as this works better for
highly carbonated beers. As you can see in the picture, the bottle was a highly unusual
form with a very long neck. This was the so-called “open gose,” in which no attempt
to seal the bottle was made, and the bacteria present in the brew actually built up a
plug-like mass that rose in the neck and formed a gas-tight seal! Toward 1900 this
quaint tradition was replaced by the more modern bail-top closures.
Like Berliner weisse, it is frequently adulterated at serving with raspberry or
woodruff syrups, or with Curaçao, cherry, or even caraway (kümmel) liqueurs.
Traditional Beers Using Alternate Grains
Bitter
Corn or rice as cheap filler. Wheat (various forms) as head retention improver.
Berliner
Weisse
Sour, lactic beer made from barley malt and between 30 and 40 percent malted wheat plus 60 to 70 percent
barley malt.
Chicha
Indigenous maize beer of South America, made from unmalted maize.
Chang
Indigenous rice beer of Himalayan region.
Gose
White beer from near Leipzig, made with barley (40 percent) and wheat malts (60 percent), and seasoned
with coriander and salt. See p. 146.
Kvass
Russian small beer traditionally made from rye bread and lemons, and sold by street vendors. Very low-
gravity product with a very short fermentation. Modern, soda-like, no-alcohol versions in large plastic
bottles can be found at some ethnic markets. (See p. 247)
Mazamorro
A beer, or more properly a braggot, made from honey and ground corn, brewed by the Nicaro and
Chorotega peoples of Nicaragua.
Peetermann
Variant of Leuven witbier, and made dark with the addition of slaked lime (calcium hydroxide). (See p.
208)
Pissionia
A native beer of the Yuma people who lived along the California/Arizona border. It was made by roasting
wheat to a light brown color over a charcoal fire, then crushing the kernels and fermenting the mash.
Pombe
East African beer made from millet and fermented with a “fission” yeast, Schizosaccharomyces pombe,
which is capable of breaking down starch into sugar.
Roggenbier
German specialty beer; made like dunkelweizen, but with some rye instead of wheat.
Sahti
Finnish traditional beer made from barley malt and rye, flavored with juniper. (See p. 244)
Tesgüino
From an Aztec word meaning “heartbeat,” this slurry-like beverage is made from malted corn saccharified
using the bark or leaves of a large range of plants indigenous to the north and northwest of Mexico where
it is prepared.
Weizen
Bavarian beer made from wheat malt (60 percent) and barley malt (40 percent), and fermented with special
ale yeast that produces a fruity, clove-like character.
Pearl millet,
Panicum typhoides
Common millet,
Panicum miliaceum
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.036 (9 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 3.2%
Color: Pale straw
Bitterness: 10 IBU
Yeast: Bavarian Weizen
Maturation: 3 to 4 weeks
At end of boil, add 0.25 teaspoon salt plus 1 ounce (28 grams) coriander. Ferment with a German
weissbier yeast, a little on the cool side, at 62 to 67° F (16.5 to 19.5° C).
All-Grain Recipe:
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)23%
Pilsener malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)15%
sour malt
RECIPE
Hose Your Nose Gose
3.5 lb (1.59 kg)54%
wheat malt
0.5 lb (227 g)8%
unmalted oats (oatmeal)
1.0 lb (0.45 k g)—
rice hulls
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Step mash, with rests at 113° F (45° C) and 153° F (67° C). Dilution of 2 quarts per pound. Note that the
first batch of hops goes into the mash rather than the boil. Mash-out at 170° F (76.5° C). This gets only a
short 45-minute boil.
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)
add to mash
Spalt(4% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
45 min
Spalt(4% AA)
At end of boil, add 0.25 teaspoon salt plus 1 ounce (28 grams) coriander.
Rice,
Oryza sativa
Indian Popcorn Ale Puffing, or torrefying, grain goes very far back in history, as a
way of making hard, flinty grains more palatable. Rapid heating causes an expansion
of water within the grain, and the starches are instantly gelatinized and made soluble.
There is sometimes a bit of Maillard browning going on as well, which helps add
flavor to an otherwise insipid grain. In this recipe, the popcorn is used to thin out and
add a dry, crisp texture to an IPA, which might be a little too dense otherwise. An air
popper should be used, as the normal popping method with oil would cause problems
in the final beer.
Wild Rizen Follow the recipe for Bavarian weizen, but swap out 2 pounds of the
malted wheat for 2 pounds of wild rice. Grind the wild rice into grits, then cook it in
plain water for thirty to forty-five minutes or until tender. Be aware that the rice will
expand greatly as it cooks, so start with a large pot. After it’s cooked, add it to the
mash. A pint of maple syrup added to the secondary completes the Northern taste.
Wild Rice ESB Many British bitters display a sort of walnut complexity, a result of
careful malting of certain varieties of barley. Wild rice here adds a similar nutty depth.
Simply substitute 1 pound of cooked wild rice grits for a pound of the pale ale malt in
the recipe on p. 79, or simply add it for a slightly stronger beer. Mash an extra half
hour. Northdown or some other not-too-pungent hop would be my choice here. Lean
toward a dry, high-attenuating English ale yeast for this one.
Triticale Tripel Start with the tripel recipe on p. 125, and substitute 2.5 pounds (1.1
kg) triticale, ground to grits and then precooked, for some of the Pilsener malt. This
plays the spiciness of this wheat/rye hybrid right along with the same qualities from
the yeast and spices in this strong pale Belgian style beer.
Roggenbier By simply substituting rye malt (unmalted will work if you boil it until
tender first) for half the wheat in the weizen recipe (p. 145), and tossing in a half
pound of crystal malt of your choosing, you can make a delightfully spicy rye beer. If
you want to push the limits a little more, add one-fourth teaspoon of coarsely cracked
black pepper or grains of paradise at the very end of the boil. Ferment with a
traditional weizen yeast, or an ale yeast of your choosing. A bock version can be made
by simply scaling everything up an additional 25 to 50 percent.
Oatmeal Cookie Ale This is a traditional English brown ale enlivened by the addition
of toasted oats, and kept from becoming too thick by the use of a little brown sugar.
Use the brown ale recipe on
and substitute 1 pound (0.45 kg) of rolled oats
Chicago was a lot more than hog butcher to the world. It remains a trading and
transport center for grain.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.067 (16 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 6.3 to 7.1%
Color: Tawny amber
Bitterness: 34 IBU
Yeast: American ale
RECIPE
Electric Aunt Jemima Maple Buckwheat Ale
toasted at 300° F (149° C) until they start to smell like cookies for 1 pound (0.45 kg)
of the amber malt. Also add 1 pound (0.45 kg) of dark brown sugar to the kettle. Use
the standard infusion mash and fermentation instructions given for the brown ale
recipe. The unmistakable aroma of toased oatmeal definitely carries through into the
final product here, and adds a truly luscious flavor. If you like, a tiny dash of vanilla
and a teaspoon of cinnamon will extend the cookie illusion. This recipe would be a
good base if you wanted to experiment with nut flavors like hazelnut, pecan, toasted
coconut, or others.
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
*Kasha is available at Jewish/Russian grocery storesin toasted and untoasted varieties. You can toast your
own, 20 min at 300°F (149°C).
All-Grain Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.6 kg)57%
pale ale malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)10.5%
toasted buckwheat (kasha)*
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)7%
biscuit/amber malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)7%
dark crystal
0.5 lb (227 g)—
rice hulls
2.6 lb (1.2 kg)18.5%
grade “B” maple syrup, added to kettle
No Equivalent Extract recipe
Hops:
1.5 oz (43 g)
90 min
Fuggle (5% AA)
0.75 oz (21 g)
30 min
Fuggle (5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
end of boil
Saaz (3% AA)
0.2 oz (4 g)
end of boil
fenugreek seeds, crushed or ground
This is a cool refresher, with a little more crispness and bite than its German counterpart.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.049 (12 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.1 to 4.7%
Color: Pale gold
Bitterness: 23 IBU
Yeast: American ale
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
RECIPE
Amazing Daze American Wheat Ale
All-Grain Recipe
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
44.5%Pilsener malt
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
44.5%wheat malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
11%Munich malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
—rice hulls
Extract Plus Steeped Grain Recipe:
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
92%liquid wheat extract
0.5 lb (227g)
8%Munich malt
Hops:
0.75 oz (21 g)
60 minCascade (6% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
15 minUS Tettnang (4.5% AA)
Red rice is a short-grain rice with a deep burgundy hull and a nutty flavor. If you can’t find it at your
local hippie market, try
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.046 (11 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.3 to 5%
Color: Pinkish gold
Bitterness: 33 IBU
Yeast: American lager
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
7.5 lb (3.4 kg)
86%Pils malt
1.25 lb (0.6 kg)
14%red rice, ground to grits consistency
0.5 lb (227 g)
—rice hulls
RECIPE
Pink Menace Red Rice Pils
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)
48%pale dry malt extract 1028
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
32%U.S. six-row Pils malt
1.25 lb (0.6 kg)
20%Red rice, ground to grits consistency
0.5 lb (227 g)
—rice hulls
Hops:
0.75 oz (21 g)
60 minMt Hood (7% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
20 minMt Hood (7% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
5 minSaaz (3% AA)
For both all-grain and mini-mash recipes, grind rice to fine grits consistency, then cook as per package
directions (as for eating). Add cooked rice to malt, and use an infusion mash at 150° F (65.5° C). Sparge
as usual.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.073 (17.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.5 to 6.4%
Color: Ruby brown
Bitterness: 23 IBU
Yeast: English or Scottish ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 weeks
This was concocted by my original brewing partner, Ray Spangler, and me. Wheat softens this burly
brew, giving it a chocolate milkshake flavor and texture.
As with all wheat-based beers, it does not bear long aging. Use caution when drinking; this is one
seductive beer.
All-Grain Recipe:
5.0 lb (2.3 kg)35%wheat malt
RECIPE
Dick’s Elixir Wheat Porter
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)28%
Munich malt
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)21%
six-row lager malt
1.5 lb (0.7 kg)10%
medium crystal malt
0.5 lb (227 g)3.5%
flaked oats, toasted @ 300°F/I50°C until a light golden brown, and smelling
like cookies
6.0 oz (170 g)3.5%
black patent malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) —
rice hulls
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops:
0.5 oz (14 g)90 min
Northern Brewer (7% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)10 min
Northern Brewer (7% AA)
0.35 oz (10 g)10 min
Santiam (6.5% AA)
A standard infusion mash (one hour at 152° F or 66.5° C) will work, but you may get more creaminess if
you do a protein rest at 122 to 131° F (50 to 55° C) for twenty to thirty minutes. A ninety-minute boil is
recommended. For the smoothest taste, use debittered black malt if you can find it.
Use your favorite yeast, but avoid anything too wacky so the simple flavors can shine through the
darkness. I like the Fuller’s strain of ale yeast for its malt-accentuating qualities. Lager yeast would also
do nicely with this one.
Chapter 12
H
OPS ARE
J
UST
A
NOTHER
H
ERB,
M
ON
M
alt, hops, water, yeast, blah,
blah, blah.
The Bavarians have been pushing
their notion of the supposed purity of beer for
almost five hundred years now, but by this point in
the book it should be clear that there are plenty of
legitimate alternatives.
But if we were to be suddenly transported back
to the dank, dark days of the Middle Ages, we
might be hard pressed to recognize the sour, smoky
herbal concoctions served up as beer.
“When we add to this list all the surrogates used in lieu of hops by
ancient peoples, such as the konyce of the Sythians, the sorbum
acidum of the Thracians, the tamarisk buds of the Tartars, and pine
buds by all the Northern folk, and when we consider that dozens of
other substitutes, spices, herbs, barks, etc., could be added here, it
will be found that the definition of beer as it existed in ‘ye good old
times’ would read somewhat different from what most people, even
those more-or-less versed in these matters, would imagine them to
be. And these were the ingredients which the fermentarius of
mediaeval times and the apothecary of the mediaeval brewer,
mingled and jumbled together according to his own sweet will,
when preparing his beer. It is from that time, then, the time of
official and authoritative control over this drugging campaign in
beer, that dates the era of beer sophistication, lasting
all through the Middle Ages and well into modern time, the time
which neglected no herb or drug, no matter whether harmless or
poisonous, in an endeavor to lend some new property or savor to
the brew.”
— John P. Arnold, 1911
Although this may not be the most appetizing way to describe these ancient
brews, a glance into the past can serve as a starting point for a number of interesting
and quite delicious beers.
In the long, broad history of beer, the hop is a relative newcomer. Hops began to
be used in beer about 1100 C.E. in Europe, and much later in the British Isles. For a
few centuries, herbed beers existed side-by-side with hopped beers before they were
superseded by more modern fashion and banned by edicts such as the Reinheitsgebot.
Many lingered on until fairly recently. During the nineteenth century, spiced
beers still lived, albeit in the margins. Heather ale was being brewed in the hills of
Scotland; an anise beer called “swankey” was made in Pennsylvania; rustic spiced
country brews were slowly winking out in England.
Some survive to this day. A cloudy, delicately spiced Belgian wheat beer called
“wit” vanished for a few decades, then was resurrected. In Berlin, the local wheat
beer, a light, yogurty brew called weisse, is still commonly served with a dash of
syrup made from an herb called woodruff, while in the same region other spiced white
ales such as gose and kotbuss still linger. North into Scandinavia, strong, juniper-
tinged beers provide a delicious link to the past for the enthusiastic caretakers of the
style.
With the rebirth of craft brewing in the United States and Europe, such exotic
beers are again available to the beer aficionado. Anchor Brewing pioneered the
renaissance of spiced holiday beers, and now they are brewed by many
microbreweries. Pierre Celis single-handedly rescued the witbier style from oblivion.
Bruce Williams in Scotland has resurrected a number of Bronze Age-inspired beers
with pine, elderberry, and kelp flavorings. A mustard beer is being produced in
Belgium.
USING HERBS AND SPICES
You can boil, “dry hop,” make hop tea, or use herbal potions to season your brew.
If you do boil, throw them in at the very end, or “...it will be just for the neighbors,” as
Pierre Celis says. Five minutes ought to do it. Hop teas and potions give you the
option of controlling the exact dosage of spice to be added to the beer. For hop tea,
steep the herbs in water that has just been boiled, then run through a coffee filter.
Potions are made by soaking the herbs and spices in vodka for a week or two,
dissolving out the essential flavors, then filtering. These last two options really give
you much more control over the mix and strength of the spicing. Just add the tea or
potion to the beer at bottling, having first conducted a small-scale experiment with a
pipette or syringe and a small sample of beer, to test how much of the mixture needs
to be added for the best flavor. Scale up this small test to the rest of the batch.
Don’t add spices or herbs to the primary fermenter—the vigorous outgassing
takes the delicate volatile oils with the CO
2
as the beer ferments.
The following recipes should serve as a starting point, but if you’ve got a garden
full of bog myrtle, by all means make some beer with it. Don’t overlook spices like
black pepper, which are especially good at enhancing other tastes.
Strive for a mysterious blending of flavors. These beers are best when the
individual flavors don’t jump out at you. Even with simpler mixtures like coriander
and orange in witbier, you can use other spices to add depth and complexity. Watch
out for aggressive spices such as ginger and rosemary, which have a tendency to take
over a beer unless regulated or counterbalanced by other flavors.
Hop lightly. You may still want to add hops, but they may or may not work with
the mixture of spices you have planned. You must consider them as part of the mix.
Boiling spices can be tossed into the boil. Sanitary and safe, but some aromatics
may be lost. Right at the end is the best time to add them to preserve aroma and avoid
extracting harsh tannic substances that are sometimes present.
Dry hop spices can be added to the beer after primary fermentation has subsided.
They may be put into a hop bag if you like.
Stoneware Bottle, c. 1890
These “botanic” brews were more like soda than beer.
POTIONS
This technique uses a solvent—alcohol—to solubilize and sterilize the aromatic
components of spices and herbs. Many of these are more soluble in alcohol than in
water, so this is a highly effective way to add spice, herb flavor, and aroma to a beer.
It’s easy, it’s sanitary, and it’s controllable.
Mix spices with vodka or liqueur and allow to sit for a few weeks or longer.
Add this to the batch at bottling.
Test smallest quantities, then increase until taste level seems right.
Liqueur contains sugar—about 4 to 6 ounces per 750-milliliter bottle.
Sassafras Extract
Some seasonings are best purchased in a prepared form. This one has the potentially
harmful safrole removed.
Walk into your local liquor store and buy a big jug of the cheapest rotgut vodka
you can lay your hands on. Not feeling shameful is actually the most difficult part of
this flavoring method. More expensive brands may make you feel better (and your
wallet lighter), but add nothing in terms of quality. Claiming that it is needed for your
child’s science project does not seem to take the sting away, either.
Once obtained, with curtains drawn, you can now put this cheap-yet-magical
substance to work in the service of brewing. Put the herbs and spices you wish to use
into a beaker or wide-mouthed jar. Use a little more than you think you’ll actually
need for the batch of beer. Measure the quantities of herbs and spices you add so you
can repeat the recipe in case you win Best of Show. A gram scale works best, but dry
measures will serve just as well. Pour a quantity of vodka over the spices, about
double the volume of the seasonings. Cover and allow this to soak for a week or two.
After that it doesn’t change much.
After a week, taste it, or better yet, add a few drops to a beer. Scrutinize the
mixture for balance, flavor, and depth. Now is the time to add more of whatever you
think it will take to finesse the mixture. Allow it to sit for a few more days.
The next step is filtration. Pouring through a coffee filter removes nearly all of
the spices, leaving just a bit of dusty stuff that settles right out with the yeast in the
bottle. I recommend using a funnel with shallow ribs on the inside, designed for use
with filters. The ribs keep the paper off the glass and allow the liquid to flow more
freely than in a smooth funnel.
Once you have the filtered potion, you can do a test to determine how much of
the potion to add for the best flavor. Small changes in quantity can translate into large
changes in taste. I have found that there is a sharp transition between “not enough”
and “too much,” with only a very small range of “just right” in the middle.
Get a pipette or small syringe graduated in some small amount, like one-tenth of a
milliliter, and a small measure such as a shot glass. Calibrate with a line indicating 1
ounce (this assumes you are keeping track of your batches by gallons; if you are using
liters, use a similar metric quantity—25 or 50 milliliters).
Use a small amount of the intended beer for the test, or one that’s similar. I have
done it both ways with good results. Pour an ounce of the beer into the shot glass.
Withdraw a small amount of the potion into the pipette, take a wild guess as to how
much to start with, and add it to the shot glass. Stir well and taste. Too much? Not
enough? You just have to tinker with it until you get it right.
Once you have determined the one-tenth milliliter per ounce ratio, all that
remains is to scale it up. Get out the pocket calculator and do the arithmetic:
Scaling Up Small-Scale Flavoring Potion Tests—1 Ounce to 5 Gallons
1 oz x 128 (per gallon) x 5 (gallons in batch) = 640 ounces/batch
If the dosing test determined that 0.2 ml was the correct amount for 1 ounce,
then multiply:
.2 ml x 640 = 128 ml of potion that must be added to match the small-scale test
Henbane Hyoscyamus niger
Called bilsenkraut in German, this dangerous herb containing atropine was once used
as a brewing ingredient. According to Christian Rätsch (Urbock, Verlag 1996) this
plant may have given its name to the Pilsener style.
Calculating the Sugar Content of Liqueurs
Liqueurs contain a certain amount of fermentable sugar, so this may be unsuitable for kegging
unless you plan on naturally carbonating in the keg. For bottling, the sugar in liqueur must be
considered as priming material. You can determine the quantity of sugar present by measuring the
specific gravity of the liqueur. By subtracting the effect of the alcohol, which is a known quantity
(specific gravity of 0.789), you can determine the precise amount of sugar present. For every 10°
proof, add 1.06 °Plato to the measured gravity. Once you’ve added the appropriate number of
degrees Plato to compensate for the alcohol, it is simple to calculate the amount of sugar present.
Since degrees Plato are a measure of the percentage of sugar, just multiply the °P (as a decimal: 10 °P
= 0.10, etc.) times the weight of the liqueur. Add to this as much sugar as you need to bring the total
up to the appropriate range for the beer you’re bottling. For reference, a cup of corn sugar weighs
roughly 6.7 ounces (190 grams).
Example:
Frangelico:21.6 °P, 56 proof (28% alcohol/volume)
56 (proof) x 1.06 °P =5.91 °P (correction for alcohol)
Add for alcohol: 21.6 + 5.91 °P = 27.5 °P (% sugar)
Liqueur quantity: 6 oz (by weight) x 27.5% (sugar, as °P) = 1.65 oz sugar
This amount—1.65 oz of sugar can be included as part of your priming.
If the beer is a strong one intended for long aging, you might bump up the
quantity a bit to compensate for the inevitable fading of flavor that comes with
extended time in the cellar.
I usually add the potion to the beer at bottling, although you can just as well add it
toward the end of secondary fermentation. If the beer is to be kegged rather than
bottled, add it when you rack into the keg.
So, how much extra alcohol gets into the beer with this method? It depends on the
quantity and alcoholic strength of the spirit added, but really doesn’t amount to much.
In a 5-gallon batch, 16 ounces of 80-proof vodka will add 1 percent of alcohol. Some
alcohol evaporates during the soaking period, so it may end up being a little less. This
shouldn’t affect things too much, but be aware that in beers over 8 percent, with some
yeasts, this may slow priming a bit. If in doubt, you can always add champagne yeast
when you bottle.
In addition to homemade potions, commercial liqueurs may be used as a source
for exotic flavorings in beer. I have had very good results with Triple Sec (orange
liqueur) and crème de cacao (chocolate). Spices may be added to these, using the
same method as the vodka. Fruit-flavored brandies often have rather elegant fruit
character and also work well, especially when some real fruit is used along with the
brandy. I have used as much as a full 750-milliliter bottle of liqueur in a 5-gallon
batch of beer. Benedictine, Chambord, Chartreuse, Frangelico, and many others offer
sleek, sophisticated flavors in an easy-to-use form—for a price.
There are also a number of commercially prepared flavoring extracts meant for
making homemade liqueurs. Home wine and beer shops often carry these products,
which are available in all common liqueur flavors. Many of these, like hazelnut and
crème de cacao, are difficult to extract on your own and are well worth using. Some
liqueurs contain oil that may cause problems with head retention. Be sure to check out
the one you plan to use with a small-scale test. Watch carefully for deleterious effects
on the head, especially with orange flavored varieties.
SPICY SMOKE
This obviously transforms the spices into
something very different, but can be used to create
unusual flavors. Simply build a small charcoal fire
on your barbecue, then place soaked spices directly
on the coals a small handful at a time. Whole malt
can be placed in a small basket made out of bronze
window-screen, less than one-inch deep, and put
into the barbecue off to the side, not directly over
the coals. Turn every few minutes. Twenty minutes
to an hour is the usual time for smoking malts.
Heavier spices such as clove, cinnamon, allspice,
and star anise are best for this technique. More
pungent herbs such as thyme or rosemary might
make use of this technique. As long as we’re talking
fire, you might consider lightly toasting certain
spices before using. This would alter the flavor, and perhaps knock off the raw, rough
edges.
Smoked spice beers to ponder:
Jerked Island Gold A strong (1.055) export style lager—Pils malt with 10
percent Munich malt that has been smoked with allspice. Add a habañero for
some painful joy, mon.
Smoked Five Spice Porter This uses the standard Chinese culinary mix of
cinnamon, red flower (Szechuan) pepper, cloves, fennel seed, and star anise.
Either buy the mix or concoct your own, then soak and smoke. Add to a
somewhat strong (1.060 to 1.070) brown porter made with lots of amber malt.
Should be great with duck.
Smoked Wassail Take the spice proportions from one of the Christmas beer
recipes later in this chapter, and use maybe five times the quantity. Add a few
ounces of juniper to the mix, and start smoking.
GRAINS OF PARADISE
This is an exotic ingredient from the great Age of Spice, a time when black
pepper was more costly than gold. Today it is seldom used except in its native West
Africa, but it once was popular in many parts of Europe.
It goes by many names. Aframonium melegueta is its official scientific name. It is
also called paradise seed, guinea pepper, and melegueta pepper.
The spice is the seeds of a reedlike plant of the Zingiberaceae (ginger) family,
and is native to tropical western Africa. It is related to cardamom, and indeed it does
share some cardamom-like aromatic qualities. The people of West Africa chew the
peppery seeds along with cola nuts, providing a mildly stimulating caffeine break.
The seeds themselves are brownish in color, irregularly shaped, and about half the
size of black peppercorns.
The flavor is intense and complex. It may be described as an intensely hot, white
pepper taste with a spruce/juniper aroma. Like pepper, it seems to be a spice that
enhances other flavors. It seems to not have the lemony/minty flavor of common
cardamom. It has been used recently as a high-class pepper alternative in the grinders
of some pricey restaurants.
Grains of paradise were part of the vast brewing herbarium, and like many other
spices, persisted long after hops had established domination as the herb of beer. More
recently, grains of paradise have been used in certain Belgian styles: white beers,
strong pale ales, and also in Faro—sweetened, diluted lambic.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.068 (16 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.7 to 6.6%
Color: Chestnut brown
Bitterness: 32 IBU
Yeast: London ale
Maturation: 6 to 10 weeks
This celebrates the time when chocolate was being introduced to Europe. It’s a bit of a fantasy, as
chocolate was always competition for beer, rather than an ingredient in it.
All-Grain Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.6 kg)
52%mild ale malt
3.5 lb (1.1 kg)
21%amber/biscuit
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
6.5%wheat malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
6.5%lightly toasted
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
6.5%black patent malt
12.0 oz (340 g)
4%dark molasses
6.0 oz (170g)
2.5%creme de cacao liqueur (added to secondary)
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops:
0.5 oz (14 g)
90 minBullion (8.5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
45 minFuggles (5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
5 minBullion (8.5% AA)
RECIPE
Pudgy McBuck’s Celebrated Cocoa Porter
0.5 oz (14 g)5 minFuggles (5% AA)
Spices, added at the end of the boil, or made into a potion and added at priming:
1.0 oz (28 g) cocoa, 2 tsp (9.5 g) cassia cinnamon, 0.5 tsp (2 g) allspice, 0.25 tsp (1 g) rosemary, 0.25 tsp
(1 g) nutmeg, 0.25 tsp (1 g) ground cloves, 2 whole star anise, 1.0 tsp (4 g) orange peel
One Belgian brewer uses it in the last five minutes of the boil to keep the delicate
aroma from boiling away. As far as quantities go, it is best used in small amounts. Old
recipes show rates between .07 ounces (2.1 grams) and .2 ounces (5.6 grams) per 5-
gallon batch.
Pirate Stout Think about these crusty guys traveling around the Spice Islands. Make
a big, dark stout with molasses, then add ancho chile, black pepper, allspice, clove,
nutmeg, orange peel, and whatever else strikes yer fancy, maytee, har, har, har!
Springtime Herbed Ale Start with delicate pale ale or lager. Appropriate herbs
include woodruff, basil, heather, mint, pennyroyal, and yarrow. Try about 1
tablespoon (14 g) each as a starting point. Hop lightly. A pound or so of honey added
to the secondary is a worthwhile addition.
Sources for Spices:
Penzey’s Spices
414/741-7787
The Spice House
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.065 (15.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.3 to 6.2%
Color: Chestnut brown
RECIPE
Chocolate Mint Stout
Bitterness: 32 IBU
Yeast: London ale
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
My inspiration for this one came from a brew at the Southern California Homebrew Fest (see p. 282).
This beer was getting a lot of attention—and refills. And although there’s no actual chocolate in it, the
roast malt profile is formulated to give that bittersweet flavor we love so well. You could easily add
cocoa if you want to try a variation.
All-Grain Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.6 kg)76%
pale ale malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)16%
biscuit/amber malt
0.5 lb (227 g)4%
roast barley
0.5 lb (227 g)4%
black patent malt
For extract + mini-mash recipe, substitute lbs of amber dry malt extract for the pale ale malt.
Hops and Spices:
0.5 oz (14 g)
60 min
Northern Brewer (7% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
20 min
Northern Brewer (7% AA)
1.0 oz (28g)
end of boil
fresh spearmint
0.12 oz (4 g)
end of boil
dried peppermint mint (or one Life Saver mint candy)
A straightforward infusion works great for this brew: an hour at 152° F (66.5° C), then sparge and boil
one hour. Use your favorite British ale yeast with this one. For a smoother variation lager yeast might be
used instead.
Herbs & Spices for Brewing (B) indicates bitterness.
NAME
COMMENTS & DESCRIPTION
ALECOST
See Costmary.
ALEHOOF
See Ground Ivy.
ALLSPICE
Pimenta dioica
Seeds of a Caribbean plant with a taste between cloves and cinnamon. The flavoring used in
spiced gumdrops, European spiced baked goods, and Jamaican cuisine.
ANGELICA
Angelica archangelica
The root, stem, and leaves of a plant in the umbelliferae family, with a firm bitterness and a
heady, perfumey quality. Much employed in liqueurs, but not a lot of history with beer.
Once employed as an ingredient in hop bitters. (B)
ANISE, STAR
Illicium verum
The star-shaped seed pods of an Asian evergreen tree. Complex, soft anise flavor. Less
likely to dominate, flavorwise, than aniseed.
ANISEED
Pimpinella anisum
Small seeds with intense, one-dimensional anise taste. Used in the brown Pennsylvania
specialty beer, swankey.
AVENS
Geum urbanum
A dried root with a clove-like aroma, once used to flavor an ale made in the German city of
Augsburg.
BALM
Melisa officinalis
A lemon-tasting herb used in England as a fining agent as well as a seasoning.
BASIL
Ocimum basilicum
Leaves of annual herb, with a delicate minty/anise aroma. Fresh leaves far superior to dried.
There are numerous varieties from which to choose.
BAYBERRY
Myrica cerifera
Also known as myrtle. Has resiny, slightly menthol flavor. Bayberry flowers are edible and
were once used to make a beverage.
BAY
Lauris nobilis
The leaves of a perennial shrub. Delicate herbal/resiny taste; enhances other tastes. Best
quality product comes from Turkey. Stores poorly.
BIRCH BARK
Betula lenta
The bark of the sweet birch tree, which has a strong wintergreen aroma. Available as
essential oil, which is incredibly potent, and is used as the flavoring in birch beer, a soda
pop. Important in Gottlandsdricka, where bark-covered wood is used to smoke malt prior to
brewing.
BITTER BEAN
Ignatia amara
Known in the old recipes as Faba amara. The beanlike seeds of a woody climbing shrub
native to the Phillipines. Used commercially—illegally—in Britain as a cheap hop
substitute. Toxic, as it contains strychnine—do not use! (B)
BLESSED THISTLE
Cnicus benedictus
Referred to in old books as Carduus benedictus. Scorchingly bitter flowers sometimes used
in beer, and especially known as an ingredient in mumme, which was described as “bitter as
gall.” Little flavor other than the ferocious bitterness. Use cautiously.
(B)
BOG-BEAN/BUCK-BEAN
Menyanthes trifoliata
A widely distributed northern bog plant. The stem is bitter, and has tonic and fever-
reducing medicinal properties. One ounce was held to be the equivalent of a half pound of
hops. (B)
BOG MYRTLE
Myrica gale
One of the three main herbs used in gruitbeer. Also known as sweet gale, or porst in
German, this herb is still used in some Swedish baked goods. Generally considered safe,
but should not be consumed by pregnant women.
BROOM
Cytisus scoparius
A heath plant found from England to Asia. Used as a bittering agent in Britain in the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, one of the few legally allowed besides hops. The tips
of young branches are used. (B)
CARAWAY
Carum carvi
The seed often used in German cooking, most notably in rye bread. Unique, deep rounded
flavor. Used in a liqueur called Kümmel. A common component of gruit.
CARDAMOM
Elettaria cardamomum and
Amomum sublatum(black
cardamom)
Pods containing numerous aromatic seeds. Has bright, resiny, astringent taste, a bit citrusy.
At least four varieties: green and white, which are pretty similar; black, which has much
larger pods, a smoky, old leather/tobacco kind of character, lots of astringency, and will add
a considerable drying quality to beer; and Chinese, which has a strong menthol or camphor
aroma. White and green are the most common and the most useful, and both have a
sweetish quality that blends well with fruit. The green is the more prized of the two, as the
white has been chemically bleached. If you get the whole pods, crack them open and crush
the seeds inside before using. Very nice in raspberry beer.
CASSIA
Cinnamomum cassia
Closely related to cinnamon, and more often than not passes for it. With a deeper, richer
taste than true cinnamon, cassia bark gives the familiar cinnamon toast flavor. Vietnamese
is the highest grade. Cassia buds look a bit like cloves, and taste like Dentyne gum. The
buds may be difficult to find, but are worth searching out. Nice in Christmas ales.
CHAMOMILE
Anthemis nobilis
The flowers of a perennial herb. Fragrant, sweet aroma reminiscent of Juicy Fruit chewing
gum. Used as a “secret ingredient” in witbiers, where it adds fruitiness.
CHILE
Capsicum species
Pods of a New World plant characterized by varying degrees of spicy head, chiles can make
a wonderful seasoning for beers. In addition to heat, chile may also add layers of deep, rich
taste. The best chile beers balance heat, chile flavor, and malt, not always an easy thing to
do.
CINNAMON
Cinnamomum zeylanicum
The bark of an Asian tree. Ceylon cinnamon is the only “true” cinnamon, which has a dry,
woody, delicate aroma much prized in Mexican cooking and British baked goods. Grocery-
store cinnamon is usually cassia rather than true cinnamon.
CLOVES
Eugenia aromatica
The dried flower buds of a tropical plant. Deep, rich flavor, very good in beer, especially
Christmas ales with a number of different spices in the mix.
COCOA
The de-fatted material derived from roasted fermented cocoa pods. Best added to boil.
Theobroma cacao
Pretty delicate flavor, takes quite a bit to be noticeable. Crème de Cacao or extracts for
making it can also be useful for adding chocolate flavor to beer.
COFFEE
Coffea arabica
The roasted, ground beans of a shrub originating in Ethiopia, good for adding complexity to
stouts or strong porters. Blends in very well. Instant espresso is also good. Although they
may be a bit strong, flavored coffees (e.g. hazelnut) can be used, imparting their flavors to
the beers. Cold extract added to the secondary gives the cleanest flavor, as coffee becomes
very harsh when boiled.
CORIANDER
Coriandrum sativum
The seeds of a plant long used in brewing. The leaves are known as cilantro. Complex
lemon-resin flavor, essential for Belgian style witbiers. Two kinds available: the regular
type, with round seeds and a resin, often vegetal or celeryseed aroma; and a paler, rugby-
ball-shaped East Indian variety, with a softer, sweeter aroma.
COSTMARY
Chrysenthemum balsamita
A strongly scented herb once used as an ale flavoring.
CUBEB PEPPER
Piper cubeba
A little-used African spice regarded as inferior in flavor to either black or long pepper.
ELDER FLOWERS
Sambucus canadensis
A medicinal substance with sophisticated fruity/floral sweet aromas. Use toward the end of
the boil; all parts of this plant must be cooked—it is toxic when raw.
FENNEL
Foeniculum vulgare
The seeds of a plant with a complex, anise-like aroma. A cousin to caraway. The spice of
Italian sausage.
FENUGREEK
Trigonellum foenum
The small, hard, kidney-shaped seeds of a plant with a distinct, maple syrup flavor, so much
so that it’s used as a base for imitation maple flavoring. Useful as a flavor booster in maple
flavored beers. Traditional use is in Indian cuisine.
GALINGAL ALPINA
officinarum
The root of a plant related to ginger; used in Thai cooking. Has a sharp, pungent, peppery
character. Stronger than ginger, but also inclined to be less earthy. Available fresh or dried
at Thai or other Asian markets.
GENTIAN ROOT
Gentiana lutea
The slightly aromatic, very bitter roots once commonly used as a hop substitute. Clean,
bitter flavor. Used in a German beer from Merseburg. Available as chunks of root or
extract. Main ingredient in bitters such as Underberg. (B)
GINGER
Zingiber officinale
The rhizome of a low spreading plant, available fresh or dried. Jamaican is the best of the
dried varieties. It has a sharp, peppery, yet earthy flavor that can dominate a beer easily, so
use restraint. Most fresh ginger sold here is woody and somewhat earthy. Fresh young roots
have a pinkish tinge to the flesh and a superior flavor. May be available in Thai or other
Asian markets. Candied ginger seems to be of much better quality, milder and purer-tasting
than fresh. Ginger “tea” concentrate (available at Asian markets) has a nice, clean ginger
flavor.
GINSENG
Panax species
Eleutherococcus senticosus,
or Siberian ginseng
There are two types, from completely unrelated species, Panax species, and
Eleutherococcus senticosus, or Siberian ginseng. Long history of medicinal or tonic uses in
wine, but not present in the European beer tradition.
GRAINS OF PARADISE
Aframonium melegueta
A West African spice, a relative of cardamom. Once common in England as a beer
seasoning as well as a culinary one. Very potent, with a sharp, white pepper taste with
sprucy plywood aroma. A mild stimulant, too.
GROUND-IVY
Glechoma hederacea
Also called alehoof or alecost. Formerly used as a substitute for hops. Mildly bitter, with a
balsamic fragrance; otherwise pretty delicate. (B)
HEATHER
Calluna vulgaris, others;
several Erica species.
Tiny purple blooms of Scottish shrub. Has a delicate, buttery/honey-like taste. Traditionally
used in making Scottish liqueur Drambuie. Particularly good in honey beers.
ITALIAN JUICE
See Licorice.
JUNIPER BERRIES
Juniperus communis
The dried berries of a shrubby evergreen, with the unmistakable aroma of gin. Relatively
weak in flavor compared to other seasonings, so large amounts are needed. In making
Finnish sahti, whole berry-covered branches are boiled in the mash liquor, and are also used
in the bottom of the lauter tun. The traditional form, called a kuurna, is a hollowed out log
half.
LICORICE, LIQUORICE
Glycerrhiza glabra
A unique seasoning derived from the woody roots, and having a unique persistent
sweetness. Extracted juice is commonly boiled into a solid (called Spanish or Italian juice)
and used as a flavoring ingredient. Was once widely used as a colorant in porter, at the rate
of about 1 ounce per 5 gallons. Used in some dark Belgian ales.
MEADOWSWEET
Filipendula ulmaria
An aromatic herb that has a traditional association with honey. Widely used in Bronze Age
beers such as Scottish heather ale. Does have certain preservative effects similar to hops,
but not as effective. (B)
MACE
Myristica fragrans
The outer seed covering of nutmeg, with a similar taste, but sweeter and less pungent than
nutmeg.
MUGWORT
Artemesia vulgaris
A close relative of wormwood, which was once used as a beer-bittering herb, mostly in
Central Europe. There seem to be no well-recognized toxicity issues. (B)
MYRTLE
Myrtis communis
Subdued resiny, slightly menthol aroma, a little astringency. A bit like bay leaves.
NUTMEG
Myristica fragrans
The seed of a tropical plant. Has complex, rich taste, enhances other flavors. Very potent! A
classic in Christmas beers.
OAK CHIPS
Quercus species
Sometimes used to simulate barrel aging in wines. In beer, oak may impart a musty,
astringent character, and it takes a pretty strong beer and a lot of time to make good use of
it. In time, lignin in wood degrades to vanillin, which can be very nice. Best forms to use
are winemaking “beans,” small cubes of pedigreed oak used to refresh tired wine barrels,
available in a variety of toast levels. French or Hungarian oak is milder and much preferred
over American white oak.
OAK EXTRACT
Available from winemaking shops. Much more subtle and vanilla-tinged than new chips.
Still, be cautious.
ORANGE BLOSSOMS
Petals of orange blossoms, dried. Has a delicate, perfumey orange aroma. Adds complexity
to orange-tinged beers like wit. Available at Middle Eastern markets.
ORANGE PEEL
Fresh or dried, adds citric aroma to beers. Important in Belgian witbiers. See p. 178.
ORANGE WATER
A dilute extract of orange flowers. Adds perfumey tinge to citrus-flavored beers. A little
goes a long way.
PENNYROYAL
Mentha puligium
A close relative of spearmint, once quite popular. Nice flavor, but sadly not recommended
for consumption.
PEPPER, BLACK
Piper nigrum
Adds depth and complexity to beer, especially dark ones. Enhances other flavors. Use in
small quantities, less than a teaspoon per 5-gallon batch.
PEPPER, CHILE
See Chile.
PEPPER, CHINESE
FLOWER
Xanthoxylum piperitum
A relative of black pepper, used in Chinese cooking. Also calles Szechuan red pepper. No
heat, much less pungent. Very aromatic, complex aroma enhances other tastes. Available at
Chinese markets.
PEPPER, INDIAN LONG
Piper longum
A seasoning much favored centuries ago in Europe, but largely superseded by black pepper.
Contains a little more piperene (6 percent) than black pepper, but missing its aromatic
resiny terpenes. It has a kind of sweet/hot flavor. In Roman times, it was valued at thrice the
price of black pepper.
PEPPERMINT
Mentha piperata
Leaves with the familiar aroma and cooling spicy taste. Note that the fresh mint sometimes
found in groceries is actually spearmint rather than peppermint. Very aggressive aroma, use
sparingly.
PINKS
Dianthus armeria
An edible flower in the chrysanthemum family. Mentioned in some old European mead
recipes.
QUASSIA
Quassia excelsia
The wood or bark of a tropical New World tree, once a common bittering agent for porter,
and considered fairly wholesome for that purpose. Used in tonic water. (B)
PUMPKIN PIE SPICE
A mixture of cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, and the like. Will make any beer taste just like
pumpkin pie.
ROSEMARY
Rosmarin officinalus
Needlelike leaves of evergreen perennial shrub. Has minty, resinous aroma. Very potent
aromatic!
SPANISH JUICE
See Licorice.
SAGE
Salviae folium
Leaves of a common culinary herb more often used for mead than beer, although sage ale
existed in pre-industrial Britain.
SASSAFRAS
Sassafras albidum
Roots and inner bark of a shrubby tree native to the eastern U.S. No real history as a beer
ingredient, but rather with root beer and other sodas. Contains a carcinogen, safrole, which
has been removed from commercial extracts.
SPEARMINT
Mentha spicata
Leaves of a perennial plant with a fresh, complex minty aroma. This is the variety sold as
fresh “mint” in grocery stores. Exotic varieties such as lemon and chocolate mints are
sometimes seen at farmers’ markets or garden stores.
SPRUCE
Picea albies (and others)
New-growth tips are traditionally used, which produce a refreshing resiny flavor. A historic
American beer flavoring.
SWEET GALE
See Bog Myrtle.
SWEET FLAG
Acorus calamus
Dried root of a reed-like marsh plant, used for its aroma and in bitters. Mentioned in recipes
for purl, a spiced beer popular in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in Britain. (B)
VANILLA
Vanilla planifolia
The fermented bean-like seed pod of a tropical orchid, most commonly available as an
extract. Soft, enveloping taste and mouthfeel. Able to mask other flavors, and in a pinch is
useful for covering up unwanted fermentation characteristics such as lactic sourness.
WILD CARROT
Daucus carota
Seeds of a plant used since ancient times for their pungent, slightly bitter flavor. Said to add
a flavor reminiscent of peaches or apricots when added to the secondary. Contains Vitamin
C, and was once valued for its tonic effect against scurvy. A common adulterant in
eighteenth-century London beers.
WILD ROSEMARY
A low-growing marsh plant with a strong resiny and astringent taste. In German, porst.
Ledum palustre
Used in the traditional gruit mixture. Very hard to find in the United States, although it does
grow in Alaska and similar northern climes. Contains a substance, andromedotoxin, that is
quite harmful if consumed in large quantities. Now often considered dangerous for internal
use; not recommended as an ingredient in beer.
WOOD SAGE
Teucrium canadense or T.
occidentale
Part of a group known collectively as germander, these native North American shrubs were
once used as hop substitutes. Because of possible problems with liver toxicity, this herb
cannot be recommended. (B)
WOODRUFF
Asperula odorata
A delicate herb used as a flavoring in May wine. Similar to tarragon, but sweeter. The fresh
herb is flavorless; the aroma develops only upon drying. Blends well with basil, honey, and
heather. Called waldmeister in Germany, it is used to flavor a syrup that is added to
Berliner weisse. A beautiful ornamental plant.
WORMWOOD
Artemesia absinthum
A very bitter herb once widely used in herbed beverages (like absinthe) and tonics, and as a
bittering agent in beer. Containing the toxic material Thujone, wormwood is classified by
the FDA as dangerous, and so cannot be recommended. But, it does appear as if both the
toxicity and the mind-affecting abilities of thujone may have been overstated by both sides
of the debate. A related species, A. maritima or sea wormwood, was used to flavor a beer in
England and Ireland around 1700, and is sometimes sold as a garden plant. See also
Artemesia vulgaris (mugwort).
YARROW
Achillea millefolium
A moderately bitter herb, long used in beer. One of the three classic gruit herbs. Dried
leaves and stems used. Mildly toxic, said to exacerbate headaches.
“As we gaze back on these old scenes of fun and frolic, their
rougher outlines perchance softened by distance, their true-
heartiness and geniality shining through the golden mist of time,
which of us will be found to deny that in some respects the old was
better?”
— John Bickerdyke, 1889
WASSAIL!
The industrial mindset has squeezed
nearly every drop of cultural significance
out of beer, but if you read between the
lines of nursery rhymes and Christmas
carols, you can still find scraps of our
ancient heritage peeking out from the
cracks.
“Wassailing.” The specific meaning is
rather foggy for most of us. But even so,
the sound of it conjures up some special
bond of community, a closeness unique to
the winter festival season, apple-cheeked folks in jolly old England singing and
making merry by the fire. Wouldn’t you know it had something to do with beer?
The tradition of festivities at the winter solstice is widespread and ancient. The
Roman festival of Saturnalia, with its twelve days of feasting and gift giving, formed
the model for our Christmas revelries. As Christianity spread into northern lands
inhabited by beer-brewing Barbarians, this winter bash dovetailed neatly into existing
midwinter Yule festivals.
The word wassail was originally “waes hael,” to “be whole” or “be well,” and
was connected to the concept of toasting from a large bowl of spiced ale. The same
sentiment of “to your health!” is expressed by most common toasts even today.
Wassailing survived as an activity until modern times, and involved a ceremonial
bowl garnished with rosemary, holly, and evergreens. In Devonshire it was the custom
to wassail the apple orchards, pouring ale or cider over the roots of the trees as a
rhyming toast was recited.
Such sacrificial customs have long been a means for honoring the gods. As the
finest lamb or the fruit of the fields was given up as a gift to the heavens, so it was
with drink. King Haakon the Good (died 961 C.E., somewhere in the frosty North),
decreed that Yuletide should be kept at the time of Christian Christmastime, and that
every man should use in brewing for this festival at least one-third of a tun of malt,
and that he should celebrate until the beer was gone. Woo-hoo!
King Haakon’s merry brewsters were most likely not using hops for this special
ale. The bitter, spicy qualities needed to balance the sweet stickiness of malt were
supplied by any number of culinary or medicinal plants. “Bitter herbs” are mentioned
frequently in the Bible. Traditions varied from place to place, with each region’s
brewers making best use of the locally available plants.
Unlike beer, mead (honey wine) never became industrialized, and so retains its
rustic charm to this day. The word used to denote a spiced mead, “metheglin,” is
cognate with the word “medicine,” an illustration of the serious regard held for the
power of herbs and drink long ago.
This is a modestly hopped Belgian-inflected beer with a complex malt character and a brown color. The
spice flavor is very soft and round, with nothing sticking out.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.083 (19.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 6.8 to 7.8%
Color: Tawny amber
Bitterness: 45 IBU
Yeast: Altbier or Belgian abbey
Maturation: 3 to 5 months
All-Grain Recipe:
8.5 lb (3.2 kg)45%
U.S. two-row lager malt
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)21%
wheat malt
2.5 lb (1.1 kg)13%
oatmeal (toasting optional: 15 min @ 300° F (150° C)
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)8%
German Munich malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)8%
brown malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)5%
dark crystal malt
1.0 oz (28 g)—
carafa malt
For an extract + steeped grain recipe, replace the lager and wheat malts with 4.5 lb (2 kg) amber dry malt
extract and 3 lb (1.4 kg) liquid or dry wheat malt extract.
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)90 minNorthern Brewer (7% AA)
RECIPE
Christmas Ale
0.5 oz (14 g)
30 minNorthern Brewer (7% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
30 minFuggle (5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
30 minCoriander, crushed
0.5 oz (14 g)
10 minEast Kent Golding
Spices added to liqueur potion, 12.5 oz (370 ml) of this mixture added at bottling:
250 ml
Creme de Cacao liqueur
600 ml
Orange Curaçao/Triple Sec liqueur
50 ml
Benedictine liqueur (optional)
0.25 tsp (1 g)
black pepper, crushed
1.0 tsp (5 ml)
vanilla extract
2.0 tsp (9.5 g)
cassia buds, ground
1.0 tsp (5 ml)
orange blossom water
0.25 tsp (1 g)
aniseed
3.0 oz (85 g)
coriander, cracked
Scandinavian Jul Öl labels, c. 1900
Holiday brews have long been a big tradition in the chilly North.
The British still uphold the tradition with unspiced strong ales called winter
warmers. In Continental Europe, especially in Belgium and Scandinavia, winter
holiday beers persist. Spiced holiday ales have made a revival in America, as brewers
are seeking their roots wherever they can find them. Interest in all kinds of seasonal
brewing naturally led to a special beer for the holiday season. Anchor Brewing in San
Francisco started the renaissance with a spiced strong brown beer made for the 1984
holiday season. According to those at the brewery, Fritz Maytag is “a great admirer of
British beer tradition” and always interested in doing something unique.
Certain characteristics define the style. Most are strong, with gravities from 1.050
to 1.070 and up. They tend to be deep amber to brown, with thick, cream-colored
heads. Generally, 100 percent malt is used, with crystal malts playing an important
role in the flavor profile. For stronger beers, semi-refined sugars may be used to thin
out the texture, even as they add a layer of flavor. Hops usually play second fiddle to
the spices, but they may be fairly bitter just the same.
TWELVE BEERS OF CHRISTMAS
Holiday icons seem to settle into the same old routine; beers are not immune. And
while I enjoy the wassail-inspired brown brews, much of the fun of homebrewing lies
in the surprising, the fun, and the new.
So, in that spirit, I present a brewer’s dozen, minus the accompanying song, plus
a bonus—my interpretation of the classic wassail-spiced brew. These are just outlines;
I promised earlier not to spoon-feed you every little thing. If you’ve brewed a few
batches, you should able to fill in the gaps quite nicely.
1. Caramel Quadrupel Start with the tripel recipe on p. 125, but add 4 pounds of
amber malt, and use the following toffee sugar recipe instead of the sugar of the
original recipe. Sugar and malt caramelized together will impart a lingering toffee-like
quality. Mix a pound each of light malt extract and white sugar in a heavy saucepan.
Heat until it melts; stir only enough to mix together, and continue until it starts to
darken. Use your judgment about when to stop. Once it starts to brown, things happen
quickly, but it can get fairly dark before it will make the beer taste burnt. When done,
remove from the stove and scrape it directly into your brew kettle or cool it by
lowering the pan into a larger pan of water. Once cooled, add brewing water and
reheat to dissolve the caramel, then add to your brew in progress. Gravity: 1.100 (24
°P). Color: deep reddish-brown.
2. Spiced Cherry Dubbel Start with a good rich dubbel (p. 124), toss in an additional
pound of piloncillo or turbinado sugar, and use a combination of sweet (black) and
sour (Montmorency) cherries, which should ferment in the beer for a month or so. A
pound per gallon is a minimum. Two is better. One teaspoon of ceylon (true)
cinnamon added at the end of the boil will enhance the natural spiciness of the sour
cherries. Add one drop (no more!) of almond extract for added depth. Gravity: 1.070
to 1.078 (17 to 18.5 °P). Color: deep ruby-amber.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.083 (19.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 6.7 to 7.7%
Color: Deep amber
Bitterness: 28 IBU
Yeast: Altbier or Belgian abbey
Maturation: 3 to 5 months
RECIPE
3. Spiced Dunkel Weizenbock
All-Grain Recipe:
5.0 lb (2.3 kg)
38%wheat malt
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
31%Munich malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
15%two-row Pilsener malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
8%wheat malt, toasted 30 min. @ 350° F
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
8%medium crystal malt
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops:
1.75 oz (50 g)
90 minTettnang (4.5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
30 minTettnang (4.5% AA)
Spices, 1.0 tsp (4.7 g) each, added at end of boil:
allspice, star anise, caraway; plus 0.5 oz (14 g) of orange peel; 2.0 oz (57 g) of candied ginger may be
chopped coarsely and tossed into the secondary.
This beer is a hybrid between the rustic Finnish sahti and classic German brews.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.080 (19 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 6.4 to 7.2%
Color: Deep amber
Bitterness: 24 IBU
Yeast: Danish lager
Maturation: 4 to 6 months
All-Grain Recipe:
9.5 lb (4.3 kg)62%
Munich malt
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)19%
two-row Pilsener malt
RECIPE
4. Juniper Rye Bock
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)13%
malted rye or flaked rye, precooked
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)6%
dark crystal malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)—
rice hulls
4.0 oz (113 g)—
crushed juniper berries, in the mash
Hops & Spices:
2.0 oz (57 g)
90 min
Hallertau (3.5% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
90 min
juniper berries, crushed
2.0 oz (57 g)
end of boil
juniper berries, crushed
A standard infusion mash will suffice, although you may want to follow the traditional sahti stepped
infusion procedure (p. 244).
However leaden the cake, the dried fruits in this “delicacy” can be delicious in beer. Brew an old ale, not
too hoppy, and ferment through the primary.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.075 (18° P)
Alcohol/vol: 6.5 to 7.5%
Color: Deep reddish amber
Bitterness: 31 IBU
Yeast: Scottish ale
Maturation: 6 to 9 months
All-Grain Recipe:
8.75 lb (4.0 kg)
62%Munich malt
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)
22%amber malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
13%Special B (very dark crystal)
4.0 oz (113 g)
6%Carafa II malt
For an extract recipe, substitute: 6.5 lb (3 kg) of amber dry malt extract for the Munich and amber malts,
RECIPE
5. Fruitcake Old Ale
and add 1.0 lb (0.45 kg) medium crystal malt.
Hops:
1.5 oz (43 g)
90 minLiberty (4.5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
15 minSaaz (3% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
15 minLiberty (4.5% AA)
Add at end of boil:
0.25 tsp (1.0 g) nutmeg, allspice; 2.0 tsp (8.0 g) Ceylon cinnamon; 1.0 tsp (4.0 g) powdered ginger and
vanilla extract.
After primary fermentation, assemble 3 lb (1.4 kg) of dried fruit: raisins, apricots, cherries, blueberries—
whatever— plus the zest of two of oranges and two whole cloves. Pour boiling water over it to rehydrate;
allow to stand for an hour or two to cool and plump, then mix with the beer which has been racked into a
vessel with some headspace. Allow this to ferment for two weeks, then rack off the fruit to another
carboy, allow to settle, then bottle or keg as usual. This beer will benefit from several months of aging.
6. Saffron Tripel Pick your favorite Belgian tripel recipe as a start. If there’s no sugar
in it, substitute 20 percent of the base malt for some unrefined sugar—turbinado or
piloncillo, for example. Jaggery (Indian palm sugar) is also lovely. Add the zest of
one orange at the end of the boil, along with a pinch of crushed grains of paradise or
black pepper. Ferment with Belgian ale yeast, and add a half-teaspoon (2 g) of saffron
threads after transferring to the secondary. Gravity: 1.090 (21.5 °P). Color: orange-
gold
7. Christmas Gruit This is a throwback to the days before hopped beers were the
norm. I have included some hops here, largely for their preservative value. Note that
the “gruit” component of this is only partially authentic (bog myrtle), as yarrow and
wild rosemary can’t in good conscience be recommended for internal consumption.
The rosemary and California bay laurel provide a safe approximation. Start with the
dunkel weizenbock recipe (number 4) but substitute the following spices, which may
be added at the end of the boil: 4 oz (113 g) juniper, crushed; 1.0 tsp (4 g) ceylon
cinnamon; 0.5 tsp (2 g) bog myrtle/sweet gale; 0.25 tsp (1 g) rosemary; 0.12 tsp (0.5
g) mace, two California bay laurel leaves. Add one pound of heather or dark
wildflower honey to the secondary and allow it to ferment out before bottling or
kegging. Saison or other characterful Belgian yeast is recommended. As an option, a
package of mixed lambic culture, added after the primary, will add wild aromas and a
bit of sourness after a few months. Substituting a bit of smoked malt will impart a
suitably medieval funkiness. Gravity: 1.091 (22 °P). Color: hazy amber.
8. Honey Ginger IPA Ginger was a popular ingredient in British beers prior to 1850,
and here we’re pairing it with a dab of honey. Start with an IPA, and brew and
ferment as normal. Once transferred to the secondary, add 2 pounds (0.90 kg) of
honey, plus 2 ounces (57 g) of candied ginger, coarsely chopped. This is a higher-
quality ginger than the stuff in the produce section, less pungent and less earthy. I
would use British East Kent Goldings exclusively. Gravity: 1.065 (15.5 °P). Color:
pale amber.
9. Crabapple Lambicky Ale Crabapples add not only a festive touch, but tannins and
acidity as well, which makes it easier to get that tart, champagny character without
extended aging. Brew a simple pale wheat ale like the Amazing Daze recipe on p.
150. If mashing, go low (145° F) and long (two hours). Ferment with ale yeast,
Belgian or otherwise. Obtain 3 to 4 pounds (1.4 to 1.8 kg) of crabapples (cranberries
work also), wash well, then freeze. Thaw and add to the beer when it is transferred to
the secondary, along with a package of mixed lambic culture. Allow to age on the
fruit for two months, then rack, allow to clear (which may take a month or two), and
bottle. Lambic character will continue to increase with time. Gravity: 1.050 (12 °P)
Color: pale pink.
10. Gingerbread Ale Liquid cake! One of our Chicago Beer Society homebrewers hit
me with this one a few years ago, and the flavor was quite striking. The base brew
should be a soft brown ale, lightly hopped, with no pronounced hop aroma. The
gingerbread flavor depends on a specific balance of spices used in the common
dessert: 1 tsp (4 g) cinnamon; 0.5 tsp (2 g) ground ginger; 0.25 tsp (1 g) allspice; 0.25
tsp (1 g) cloves. Just add them at the end of the boil. Gravity: 1.055 (13 °P). Color:
pale brown.
11. Spiced Bourbon Stout Take your favorite stout recipe and dose it with spices.
Into 6 ounces (177 ml) of vodka and 2 ounces (59 ml) of bourbon (more if you wish),
add: 0.5 tsp (2 g) vanilla extract; 0.25 tsp (1 g) allspice; 0.5 tsp (2 g) cinnamon; 0.25
oz (7 g) crushed coriander; 1 whole star anise (or 0.25 tsp ground); 0.5 oz (14 g)
crushed juniper; pinch of black pepper. Gravity: 1.050 (12 °P) Color: India ink.
12. Abbey Weizen This one’s easy. Take a classic Bavarian Weizen recipe and
ferment it with a Belgian abbey yeast. For a little more zip, add a little citrus peel—try
a tangelo or a handful of kumquats for a fairly close approximation of the
Seville/curacao orange. Coriander and chamomile (.25 ounce, or 7 g) added at the end
of the boil provide even more depth. You could brew this same recipe at much higher
gravities if desired. Gravity: 1.045 (11 °P). Color: hazy deep gold.
AND MORE...
The possibilities are endless. As noted in the Arnold quote that opens this chapter,
the spice cabinet of all human history is open to us. Ther are the individual herbs and
spices, of course, as well as combinations in unlimited variety. Culinary practices can
be of great help in coming to grips with the mixes. Most of all don’t be afraid to
experiment and try something unexpected. You never know when that weird idea will
turn out to be the next great thing.
Here are a couple of recipes that came to me through homebrewer Gordon Strong.
His recipe is based on a Indian spiced tea mixture called chai. The other one is just
pure homebrew fun—although black pepper was occasionally used as a beer
ingredient a few centuries ago.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.046 (10.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.4 to 4.7%
Color: Deep amber
Bitterness: 18 IBU
Yeast: British ale yeast
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
“The general concept is to make a sweet-ish, slightly creamy northern English-style brown ale and then
blend in a spiced tea to taste. This one is different since it’s a lighter beer that’s enjoyable in the
summer.”
All-Grain Recipe:
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
46%Maris Otter pale malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
23%Vienna malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
11.5%Munich malt
0.75 lb (kg)
8.5%CaraVienne (pale crystal) malt
0.5 lb (227 g)
6%UK Crystal 80
0.25 lb (kg)
2.5%UK chocolate malt
0.25 lb (kg)
2.5%rolled oats
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops:
1.25 oz (35 g)60 minSaaz (4% AA)
Mash at 147 °F for 1 hour. Mash out at 170 °F. Boil 90 min. Ferment at 67 °F.
Post-fermentation, blend in chai spiced tea to taste:
1 vanilla bean, split and scraped
2” ginger, peeled, sliced
RECIPE
Gordon Strong’s Chai Brown Ale
1 star anise
1 black cardamom pod, split
1/2 whole nutmeg, roughly chopped
2 cinnamon sticks
5 whole cloves
18 green cardamom pods, split
2 tsp black peppercorns
0.25 tsp fennel seeds
“Bring about 1 quart filtered water to a boil, then pour over spices and cover in a separate container. Let
steep for 15 minutes, then strain to remove spices. Cover tea and keep chilled until used. I think I blended
in about 2 cups of this liquid in the 5-gallon batch. But you want to do it slowly, mix it well, and taste it.”
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.060 (15.3 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.9 to 5.7%
Color: Deep brown
Bitterness: 66 IBU
Yeast: British ale yeast
Maturation: 8 to 12 weeks
“The idea for Pepper Porter came from a brew called Back Biter” by Paul Williams of Foundry Ale
Works. Tim Steininger and I used the concept, modified to use our basic porter recipe as a starting point.
It is a well-hopped beer, and the pepper was added to provide character. Notes of pepper could be picked
up, but the pepper heat was masked by the high BUs, and the aroma by the hop fragrance. It would be
difficult to over-hop this beer.”
All-Grain Recipe:
6 lb (2.7 kg)50%Munich malt 300
RECIPE
Bat Bateman’s Black Pepper Porter
3.5 lb (1.6 kg)
29%2 row malt grains (Light)
1.5 lb (0.7 kg)
12%dark crystal malt (120 L)
0.75 lb (0.3 kg)
6%chocolate malt (350 L)
0.4 lb (0.2 kg)
3%black patent malt
For an extract + mini-mash recipe, substitute 3.3 lb (1.5 kg) dry amber malt extract for the Munich malt
Hops & Spices:
1.5 oz (43 g)
30 min
Target (9% AA)
0.75 oz (21 g)
30 min
Perle (8% AA)
0.75 oz (21 g)
5 min
Crystal (3.5% AA)
0.4 oz (11 g)
end of boil
freshly ground black pepper
0.4 oz (11 g)
in chilled wort
freshly ground black pepper
Chapter 13
T
OOTING
Y
OUR
F
RUIT
I
usually like to begin beer style
descriptions with a broad historical
perspective, sweeping from ancient times through the medieval, and continuing
through the Industrial Revolution in an unbroken continuum right up to the present
day. This is not exactly the case with fruit beers. While the ancient Egyptians may
inspire us by their use of dates and pomegranates in beer, the fact is that commercially
brewed fruit beers are a modern contrivance going back no further than the 1930s.
Old-time farmer-brewers occasionally added whatever fruit was at hand to doll up a
beer now and then, but such traditions were very much in the margins. In the texts I
have been able to scour, only a few references to fruit beer occur.
Outside of the teasing references to ancient Egyptian beers, the earliest fruit beer
reference I can find comes from Heinrich Knaus, in 1614 Germany, who refers to a
beer made with cherries—pits included. A French brewing book dating to 1828 lists a
couple of basic recipes to which the reader is advised to add raspberries, gooseberries,
strawberries, apricots, peaches, wild or cultivated cherries, plums, or currants. Oddly,
in a book about beer, these recipes recommend using sugar, honey, or maple syrup
rather than malt! One recipe, Bière framboisée dite bière des dames (raspberry beer
called Beer of Ladies), uses pure white sugar to create a 8 to 10° “wort,” topped off
with “eight or ten small baskets” of raspberries in a 300-liter barrique barrel. So wine
coolers are nothing new. Bear in mind that this book also advises us on how to
fabricate beer from beets, potatoes, and carrots.
Seventeenth- and eighteenth-century German books list beers made with
raspberries, cherries, and sloe, which is a type of plum. German-born brewmaster Fred
Scheer describes seeing dark cherries added to lagering beer during his youth, but says
that it was only at small village breweries.
Many old British brewing books from the same period describe a beer called
ebulum, which was fermented with elderberries and has since been revived by a
Scottish brewery. Dark and pale versions were brewed using purple and white
elderberries, which were placed in a muslin bag and hung in a barrel of aging beer.
The tradition of commercial fruit beers in Belgium extends back only to the
1930s. The cherry lambic, Kriek, originated at this time, raspberry framboise lambic
wasn’t made until the 1950s, and the peach flavored variety, pêche, is a very recent
invention. Even more recent interpretations include banana, strawberry, muscat grape,
and pineapple lambic.
Cherries played an important role in lambic brewing for centuries without ever
finding their way into a beer. Cherry orchards in the Senne Valley outside of Brussels
served as the primary habitat for the famous “wild” yeast of that region. Lambic
brewers lament that so many of the orchards have been cut down to accommodate
encroaching urban sprawl that sufficient microbes to inoculate their beer may no
longer exist in the night air. Each brewery building now houses its own complex
ecosystem, so much so that old brewery walls are cut out and installed in new
buildings in an attempt to infect the structures with the proper mix of brewing bugs.
The traditional method of brewing kriek is so costly and time consuming that
only the smallest and least commercial lambic breweries can manage it on any kind of
commercial scale. First a lambic is made, by itself no easy task. After the beer has
gone through a year of its complex fermentation cycle, whole fresh cherries are added
to the casks and allowed to remain for two to three months, pits and all. The beer is
then racked off the lees and allowed to clear. The beer is bottled and allowed to
condition for up to six months before release. The preferred cherry variety is the
Schaarbeek, a small, dark sour cherry that has no counterpart in America. Sometimes
these cherries are allowed to dry somewhat on the tree, concentrating the flavor
further, much like late-harvest wines. Fermenting the beer on the pit gives the beer a
woody, almond character instantly familiar to anyone who has ever tasted kirsch.
Today, many kriek brewers cut this process somewhat short. Various degrees of
expediency result in beers that are, at best, less complex, to beers that are sugary and
soda pop-like. The usual shortcut is to use some form of processed fruit concentrate or
extract, which shortens the fermentation time at the expense of depth. The resulting
beers, though they may be tasty enough, lack the wine-like profundity of the
traditional versions.
Raspberry lambics, called framboise or frambozen, are made in the same way,
although a lesser quantity of fruit may be required, owing to the more intense flavor of
raspberries. Cherry and raspberry beers are also made in Belgium using a sour brown
ale as a base rather than the lambic.
In America, the microbrew revolution has brought upon us a number of new fruit
beers. Foremost among them in popularity is the fruit wheat beer, a frothy concoction
typically made with fruit extracts and aimed at the “beginner” segment of the market.
With a fresh fruity nose, a thin, slightly acidic palate, and a relatively quick finish, this
style is the perfect summer refresher. Raspberries and apricots do well in this style.
Their intensity allows them to just lightly perfume the beer. Fruit quantities are low,
shortening production time and lowering cost. More delicate fruits such as cherries
require greater quantities to achieve a recognizable taste, making it difficult for
commercial producers, although some are starting to come through with extremely
fruity beers.
The quality of homebrewed fruit beers can be high because the cost and time
factors are not a big issue. Also, there is a greater range of fermentable fruits and fruit
products available for very small-scale fermentations. Passion fruit, plum,
thimbleberry, and other unusual fruits can be had from time to time, and the price to
pay for a failed experiment is a beer that is less than wonderful—but when one is
drinking nearly for free, who can complain?
While the following list covers most of the fruits commonly used in beer, there
are hundreds of exotic possibilities. Wild cherries, currants, and gooseberries all make
fine beers. There are lots of wild fruits hanging out there in the woods, just waiting for
someone to brew with them. Some of them—chokecherries, for example—are too
intense to be eaten, but their concentrated flavor, acidity, and color mean that they can
be great for brewing beer or mead.
Belgian label, c. 1950
German Encyclopedia plate, c. 1895
There are far fewer choices now.
Dates have an ancient brewing pedigree, and are sometimes available as canned
syrup at Middle Eastern markets. Pomegranate juice, concentrated or normal strength,
may also be found at such markets, and adds a bright acidity and tannic bite to beer
and mead. A number of tropical juices may be found at Latin American markets—
tamarind, guanabana, mango, guava, and papaya. Each has its own unique flavor, and
it’s up to us to find out which ones make the best beer!
Fruits for Brewing
NAME
COMMENTS & DESCRIPTION
BLACKBERRIES
1 to 4 pounds per gallon
(quantity of whole fruit per
gallon of beer)
Similar to raspberries, but with a considerably less specific aromatically intense flavor.
Quantities on the order of cherries—1 to 4 pounds per gallon—are about right. They have
a beautiful purple color, and may be used in other fruit beers for that effect alone.
BLUEBERRIES
1 to 3 pounds per gallon
Blueberries are another fruit that does not hold up well in fermentation. The fresh
blueberry character is so delicate that it often gets lost in the context of a beer, even a
light one. In beer, their color is not blue; it’s more of a purplish pink. Cooking may
actually enhance the flavor of blueberries, so you may be able to use a couple jars of jam
in a beer like a wit or a weizen, where the pectin haze won’t be a problem. Wild berries
have much more aroma than cultivated.
CHERRIES
1 to 4 pounds per gallon
Of all fruits, cherries are the most traditional, as well as one of the most elegant. The
subtle flavor of the cherry blends well with the tastes of malt, without completely
overtaking it. Not all cherries are well suited to making beer, and it requires at least a
pound per gallon to make a worthwhile beer. Sour cherries are best; sweet ones just don’t
have the guts to do the job. If you want to make a beer that tastes just like cherry pie, use
the Montmorency cherry. It will send you back to your childhood. Other sour cherries
have a less specific point of view. Remember, it may take a blend of different cherries to
make the best beer—some for color, some for intensity, and some for acidity.
PEACHES
1.5 to 5 pounds per gallon
Peaches have been, in my experience, a terrible disappointment. The taste of the finished
beer is rather flat and somewhat gummy, very different from the intense bouquet of fresh
peaches. Apparently, some of the crucial flavor components of the peaches are
transformed during fermentation. Apricots produce a much better beer; in fact, they make
a fine peach beer! I have had good experience with the apricot extract being sold for
brewing purposes these days. If one insisted on trying a peach beer, it might be wise to
have a bottle of apricot extract sitting around to beef up the flavor at the end of
fermentation.
RASPBERRIES
0.25 to 3 pounds per gallon
The easiest fruit from which to make beer. Their intense, single-minded character hangs
in there forever and cuts through almost any other flavor present. As little as 0.25 pound
per gallon will give a pleasant flavor in lighter, frothy beers, but 0.5 to 1 pound per gallon
is a better rate for serious brews. Usually the fruit provides enough acidity, but taste
before bottling and add acid if the fruit tastes dull. Red raspberries seem to have a better
flavor in beer than black.
STRAWBERRIES
1 to 5 pounds per gallon
Strawberries rarely live up to their promise. The familiar flavor fades quickly along with
the color, leaving an orange-hued, vaguely fruity beer behind. The best strawberry beers
are those made in a light style, to be drunk in their youth. Absolutely ripe fruit is
essential, which means you won’t be able to use grocery store berries. Strawberries refuse
to ripen further once they’re picked, so commercial berries, harvested when young and
rocklike to prevent rotting in transit, aren’t worth bothering with. Unless you can get out
in the fields and pick them yourselves, frozen strawberries are your best bet. Use 2
pounds of fruit per gallon or more, and keep the underlying beer light. Serve it as soon as
it’s ready, and drink it all up when it’s young; strawberry beer lives best in one’s memory.
APPLE
Mild aroma, acidic. Improves head. Best for mead, cider.
APRICOT
Similar to peaches, but better (see Peaches).
BANANA
Used in a lambic, but not too common.
DATES
Lots of sugar, not much aroma.
FIG
Soluble fiber keeps you regular. Not much aroma.
GRAPE
Huge variety available. Best in meads (pyment). Aromatic varieties like Muscat are good.
GUANABANA
Whitish tropical fruit. Subtle perfumey aroma. Low acidity.
GUAVA
Tropical fruit. Mild aroma and flavor.
MAMEY
Delicious tropical fruit with carob-like flavors. Low acidity.
MANGO
Complex and attractive aroma. Modest acidity.
PAPAYA
Tropical fruit with protein-dissolving enzymes. Low acidity.
PASSIONFRUIT
Small tropical fruit with intensely aromatic pulp. Beautiful!
PEAR
Soft and subtle aromas add depth to ciders or meads.
PINEAPPLE
Familiar tropical fruit. May be best as a hat decoration, or in mead.
PLUM
Large variety available. Ripeness critical. Elusive aroma.
POMEGRANATE
Delicate acidic fruit with some tannic character. Best in mead, cider.
TAMARIND
Gummy pods with tart, thirst-quenching pulp. Great for mead.
Fruit Beers to Ponder
Raisin Abbey Dubbel
Raspberry Vanilla Porter
Passionfruit Witbier
Kiwi Pils
Mango Tripel
Sapote Bock
Blackcurrant doppelbock
Guanabana Weizen
Muscat (Grape) Old Ale
Tropical fruit offers a whole range of exotic flavors to explore.
BREWING WITH FRUIT
The underlying beer is important. While homebrew competition judges like to be
able to detect “a beer in there somewhere,” drinkers of commercial fruit beers make
no such demand. Lighter-bodied beers do work better with most fruits, but assertive
beers can work as well if carefully considered. Excessively bitter beers seem to fight
the sweet and sour character of most fruit. In general, sharp roasty flavors from malts
like chocolate fight with the fruit, but as the cherry stout example points out, there are
exceptions. Lighter beers meld easily with fruit. Caramelly notes from Munich,
Vienna, and pale crystal will usually blend beautifully, though they may up the ante in
terms of fruit quality, which in turn extends the maturation time. Very little work has
been done, even on a homebrew scale, with very strong fruit beer, although I feel this
is an area worth exploring.
Fruit beers require a modified concept of beer balance. We usually think of the
big players as malt sweetness versus hop bitterness. Balance in fruit beers is more of a
sweet/acid thing, with bitterness and sometimes tannin supplying a bit of toothy
background. The crucial point is that without enough acidity, fruit loses its luster, a
condition wine experts refer to as “flabbiness.” This is easily adjusted, right up to
bottling time, by the careful addition of various acids. Citric and malic acids are often
used in wine and meadmaking, and work well in beer, malic (the acid of apples) being
the softer of the two. Lactic acid may also be used for a yogurty tang. I recommend
testing various quantities using a shot glass and syringe or pipette to dose beer with
acid until the right quantity is determined by taste, then scaling up to full batch size.
Once this is done for a particular recipe, the acid may be added to the fermenter
without having to repeat the dosing test.
The perfect fruit, perfectly ripe, added in sufficient quantity will produce a
profoundly complex beer. But unfortunately, these conditions rarely exist for any
brewer, large or small. It is therefore necessary to find ways of getting the best, most
complex flavor from the ingredients at hand. For example, since sour, dark cherries
are just about impossible to find in this country, a mixture of sour pale cherries and
dark sweet ones may be used to create a reasonable facsimile of a kriek. When fruit
syrups or extracts are used, a small amount of real fruit may add a fresh fruit taste
without a lot of fuss. If real fruit is not an option, then at least blend a couple of
different extracts for a better taste than either alone. Sometimes a small quantity of a
different fruit altogether may add depth—cherries added to raspberry beer, for
example. Fruits may be added strictly for color; the Belgians add the inky purple
elderberry to cherry beer to intensify color without adding any detectable flavor.
Occasionally, fruits ferment into a very different flavor than they have when
fresh. Peach is a prime example. In fact, you can make much better peach beer with
apricots than peaches. Blueberries seem to fade to nothingness, although someone
recently suggested to me that cooked blueberries have more of a recognizable
“blueberry” flavor than fresh, a notion I have not yet verified. Strawberries are almost
hopeless, losing all their color and much of their flavor within a month or two. The
only solution is to use lots of very ripe fruit (and remember strawberries don’t ripen
after they are picked), and brew the kind of light summer beer that doesn’t take long
to mature.
Fruitalsocontainssomestrange
carbohydratesthat complicate the brewing
process. Pectins can form a kind of permanent
starchy haze, especially if the fruit is cooked prior
to adding it to the beer. Pectinase enzymes are
available, and do work, if somewhat slowly. The
other complication is the presence of a bunch of
oddball sugars that ferment very slowly. This
causes problems for bottle conditioned beers. The
only exploding bottles I ever had were of a cherry
brown ale. Champagne bottle time bombs tucked
away in innocent closets are not the greatest way
to endear yourselves to your friends, I can tell
you. Allow your beer to mellow in the secondary
as long as you can, and cut back the priming by one-fourth to one-half, depending on
the strength of the beer and the estimated completeness of fermentation.
The best way to incorporate fruit into your beer is to add it to the secondary
fermenter. By this time the crop of yeast should be strong, and conditions should be
acidic, alcoholic, and nutrient-depleted enough to keep invading microbes at bay.
When using whole fruit, I like to freeze it first. Outside of the obvious benefit of
keeping it stable until I’m ready to brew, freezing ruptures the cell walls, and allows
the fruit to mush up and release its flavors into the beer more rapidly. Freezing does
not kill the microflora on the fruit’s surface, though it may reduce it a bit. Thaw the
fruit in a sanitized container before adding to avoid shocking the yeast from a sudden
drop in temperature.
A covered open container is the preferred vessel for this. Avoid glass carboys. If
you must use them, be sure to leave at least a couple of gallons of headspace to avoid
clogging the outlet and blowing up the whole jug, which can be an unforgettably
unpleasant, not to mention dangerous, event. I have acquired an 8-gallon stainless
steel milk can from my local junkyard, and am now brewing 5 gallons of cherry beer
in it. Try to maintain a blanket of CO
2
gas over the fruit at all times to avoid
encouraging mold and vinegar-causing acetobacter. Purging the empty container with
CO
2
before racking should help, as well as a tight-fitting (but not airtight) lid. And
remember, the more you open it to look, the less secure the gas blanket will be.
Fruit concentrates must be treated in the same manner as fresh or frozen fruit, but
they are stronger on a weight basis. Usually, the packaging for a concentrate will state
what the fresh fruit equivalent is. As with fresh fruit, adding to the secondary
fermentation is the preferred method.
Concentrated juice is available for some fruits, and
when available, it can be an excellent way to add a lot of
fruit flavor with zero fuss. I have had especially good
experience with black cherry juice concentrate, available at
health food stores. As with all concentrates, the flavor can
be a little one-dimensional, so the beer may need a little
something else—a different extract, fresh fruit, fruit
extract—to deepen and richen the flavor. As always, taste
your fruit beer before kegging or bottling, and add acid if
you think you need it.
Fruit extracts, lacking fermentable sugars, can be added directly to the serving
tanks, or just prior to bottling. This allows for trial-dosing of a small sample using a
pipette or syringe. Once the optimum quantity and mixture is decided upon, the test
can be scaled up to full batch size by simple multiplication. Extracts can give very
intense flavors, but may be somewhat flat in taste. Acids, especially, are missing, and
beers flavored with fruit extracts almost always need some acid to bring out the fruit
character. However, fruit extracts are also a good way to turn up the volume on a beer
fermented with real fruit—a little extra fruity kick.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.095 (23 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 8.4 to 9.5%
Color: Pale amber
Bitterness: 43 IBU
Yeast: Alcohol-tolerant English ale
Maturation: 6 to 8 months
RECIPE
Mister Boing Boing Cherry Barley Wine
All-Grain Recipe:
14.0 lb (6.4 kg)77%
Maris Otter or other high quality British pale ale malt
2.0 lb (0.9 kg)11%
aromatic/melanoidin malt
0.25 lb (115 g)1%
Carafa II malt (preferably huskless)
2.0 lb (0.9 kg)11%
Barbados or other semi-refined sugar, added to kettle
Mash with single infusion at about 153° F for an hour.
For an Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe, replace the pale malt with 8.5 lb (3.9 kg) of pale dry malt
extract
Hops:
2.0 oz (57 g)
90 min
Northdown (6.5% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
end of boil
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
Ferment through the primary, then transfer into a 10-gallon fermenter. Add 8 pounds of sour cherries,
plus 4 pounds of sweet dark cherries. Both should be previously frozen, then warmed to room
temperature before adding. If you have CO , add a blanket of gas after you add the cherries. Allow to sit
2
on beer for two to eight weeks—longer if you like. Rack beer back into a carboy and allow a couple
months to settle out before bottling or kegging. Carbonate lightly!
ORANGES AND OTHER CITRUS
Of the myriad seasonings used in beers over the millennia, few have such a prized
role as the orange. From the subtlest nuances to the brightest starring role, oranges
have been used to enliven countless mugs of ale through the ages.
There are two species of oranges. Citrus sinensis, the sweet orange, has a number
of varieties: Valencia, blood, and navel. All have a thin, easily peeled skin and a large,
juicy interior. Citrus aurantium is the bitter orange, also called Seville or sour orange,
originally native to southern Vietnam. This is the type most useful to brewers and
marmalade makers, prized for the oil in its intensely flavored rind.
Curaçao oranges are a specially harvested bitter orange, picked when still small,
gray-green, and unripe, and are sometimes called “orange peas.” These go to distillers
and flavor manufacturers, and are extremely hard to find in the consumer marketplace.
My local Caribbean market stocks bitter oranges, which they call “sour oranges.”
The season is from September to May. They’re ugly, unappetizing things. Bumpy and
dull, they don’t look like something you want to put in your prized homebrew, but
scratch the skin and they come alive with a beautiful marmalade aroma.
Originating in China and treasured for their aroma, oranges were familiar in
Greece, India, and Rome in ancient times. Bitter oranges, native to southern Vietnam,
reappeared in Europe around 1100 through Sicily and Seville, thanks to an expanding
Arab empire. Sweet oranges showed up again in Europe several hundred years later,
probably through Italy.
It is hard to say precisely when oranges were first used in beer, but brewers
adopted every exotic spice as soon as it appeared. Oranges may have been part of the
brewers’ cupboard by the Renaissance. Hugh Platt (English) mentions oranges in a
1609 recipe, and by 1700 they’re in all kinds of meads, possetts, syllabubs, and the
like, as well as beer. England outlawed the use of such seasonings in commercial beer
in the early eighteenth century, but spiced beers containing orange lived on in private
breweries until about the end of the nineteenth century.
The only part of the orange you want is the oil contained in the colored outer rind
of the peel. Wash it well, then take off the outer rind with a grater (a MicroPlane
grater works wonders), zester, or potato peeler. The white inner rind, or pith, is
unpleasantly bitter and should be avoided if possible.
The zest may be dropped into the kettle at the end of the boil, added to the
secondary, or soaked in vodka for a few days and dosed into the beer at bottling or
kegging. I find that one bitter orange is about right for 5 gallons of beer. I helped a
brewer at a local brewpub concoct a 10-barrel batch of a Grand Cru-style ale. In that
larger batch, the peels of two dozen bitter oranges added at the end of the boil gave
the beer a lovely orange nose.
I have had good results with Triple Sec liqueur, which can be added to the
secondary or used as priming for bottling. There are approximately 5 to 6 ounces (142
to 170 grams) of sugar in a 750-milliliter bottle, more than enough to prime a batch of
beer. Sugar content varies considerably, so see the method of calculation in Chapter
12. One 750-milliliter bottle of liqueur will add around 1 percent alcohol to your beer.
You can also use the liqueur as a solvent to extract flavor out of coriander or other
spices. Just grind them up and let them soak in the liqueur a few days before straining
through a coffee filter.
Nineteenth Century Flute Glass
Nothing shows off the elegant color of a fruit beer like a tall, slim glass.
The dried tangerine peel available at Chinese markets has the bitter white pith as
well as the aromatic oils. I haven’t figured out a way to get one without the other, so I
can’t recommend them. The same goes for the dried peel sold in homebrew shops.
Marmalade is just chock full of good bitter/Seville orange flavor. It also contains
a starchy substance, pectin, that may impart a haze to the finished beer—desirable in a
white beer. Try a tablespoon or two as a starting point.
Seville, aka Sour or Bitter Orange
These are best for brewing if you can find them. Note the rough skin and thick rind.
Cioptrus Beers to Ponder
Grapefruit American IPA
Lime Prickly Pear Weizen
Tangerine Chipotle Märzen
Kumquat Brown Ale
Lemon Honey Cream Ale
Marmalade Imperial Stout
Blood Orange Winter Warmer
More Citrus Fruits for Brewing
Bergamot Orange A small citrus fruit (Citrus aurantium subsp. bergamia) cultivated
in southern Italy. The flavoring used in Earl Grey tea.
Blood Orange Reddish skin and deep red juice with some tannins.
Grapefruit Pungent aroma blends well with American hops.
Key Lime The true lime, golf ball size. Milder, more complex than large limes.
Kumquat Tiny oblong orange fruits eaten skin and all. Sharp, clear aroma. A suitable
substitute for Seville oranges. Use them whole.
Lemon Bright sunny aroma, very familiar.
Lime Common limes are related to lemons. Strong, single-minded aroma.
Mandarin Small tangerine variety. Delicate, mellow aroma.
Pomelo Giant grapefruit-like fruit popular in Middle East.
Tangelo Mandarin and orange cross. Nice complex aroma.
Tangerine Soft, rich aroma, especially nice with medium to darker malt flavors.
This recipe is typical of the rustic country recipes containing spices and seasonings. Such beers,
invariably named for a region or a city, were brewed in the private brewhouses of manor houses. This
tradition had pretty much died out by 1900. The amber malt adds a unique nutty/toasty edge to this beer.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.058 (14 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.2 to 5%
Color: Pale amber
Bitterness: 45 IBU
Yeast: London ale
Maturation: 2 to 4 months
RECIPE
‘London Ale’ Adapted from John Tuck’s Private Brewer’s Guide,
1822
All-Grain Recipe:
9.0 lb (4.1 kg)
86%pale ale malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
14%biscuit amber malt
Mash with single infusion at about 153° F for an hour. Sparge and collect wort normally.
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
6.0 lb (3.2 kg)
86%amber dry malt extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
14%medium crystal malt
Hops:
2.0 oz (57 g)120 minFuggle (5% AA)
At end of boil, add: the peel of one bitter/Seville/sour orange or three regular oranges; 0.25 oz (7 g)
coriander seed, freshly ground. Add to secondary: 2 tsp (9.5 g) powdered ginger; 0.25 tsp (1 g) salt.
*Amber malt can be made by roasting pale malt for 20 minutes at 350° F. Allow to mellow a week or two before brewing. See p. 224 for more
information on malt roasting.
For some reason, the oils present in oranges do not seem to interfere with beer
head formation, at least in my own brewing experience.
If you can’t find bitter/sour/Seville
oranges, sweet varieties may be used,
although with a different flavor. Using two
parts sweet orange peel plus one part of
grapefruit peel comes a little closer to the
Seville taste. I’d recommend two to three
times the total quantity of sweet orange peel
substituted for bitter orange for the same
intensity. Tangelos have a nice, deep aroma,
and blood oranges are complex. I have also
used tangerines to good effect, especially
with richer, darker beers. Sweet oranges are coated with a wax that is often laced with
antifungal agents. While I couldn’t come up with anything definitively dangerous
about them, it seems prudent to use organic oranges for this purpose, since they are
coated solely with food-grade materials like carnauba and beeswax.
This was created to answer the question: “How dark can a beer be and still have some witbier character?”
Well, it turns out, if you keep the roastiness under control and use a very mellow citrus, the answer is
“fairly dark.” You will notice a rich milkshake texture to this beer, and the net result is a little like a
chocolate Orange Creamsicle.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.058 (14 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.7 to 5.5%
Color: Chocolate brown
Bitterness: 31 IBU
Yeast: Belgian ale
Maturation: 2 to 4 months
All-Grain Recipe:
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
35%Munich malt
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)
26%US 6-row lager malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
17%unmalted soft red wheat flakes
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
8.5%oatmeal
0.75 lb (340 g)
6.5%Cara Munich (medium crystal)
0.5 lb (227 g)
4%black patent malt
0.25 lb (113 g)
2%Special B (dark crystal)
0.25 lb (113 g)
—rice hulls, added to mash
The unmalted grains take some special treatment. Mix them, finely ground, with a pound of the six-row,
and mash in for 15 minutes at 150° F (65.5° C), then raise to a boil and maintain for 10 minutes. Have the
rest of the goods at protein rest, and raise to mash at 154° F (68° C) when you add the boiling unmalted
grain to the main mash. Continue for 30-40 minutes, then mash out at 170° F (77° F), and maintain at
least 165° F (74° C) during sparging to keep the starch liquified.
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)38%amber dry malt extract
RECIPE
Dark Night Tangerine Porter
2.5 lb (1.1 kg)31%liquid wheat extract
Plus: all of the specialty grains from the all-grain recipe, from the oatmeal on down
Hops:
0.5 oz (14 g)
90 minNorthern Brewer hops (7% AA)
0.25 oz (7 g)
30 minStyrian Golding hops (5.5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
30 minNorthern Brewer hops (7% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
15 minStyrian Golding hops (5.5% AA)
Add at end of boil, add: zest of 1 tangerine; 1 oz (28 g) coriander; 0.5 tsp (2 g) ground star anise.
Ferment with your favorite Belgian ale yeast.
DRINK YOUR VEGETABLES
At most times and places vegetables have
been added to beer only during desperate—
usually wartime— shortages. Slices of sugar
beets tossed into the kettle may not be your
idea of delicious, but there are a few vegetables
that actually make fine beer ingredients.
Pumpkin Ale Brewing with pumpkins—or
pompions as they were then called—was one of
the privations endured during colonial times, and must have been one more reason for
the overwhelming popularity of rum in many places. Typically the old recipes called
for dried pumpkin, which must have been rather leathery and required a lot of cooking
to soften up.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.079
Alcohol/vol: 7.5 to 8.7%
Color: Pale amber
RECIPE
Ray Spangler’s Pumpkin Spice Beer
Bitterness: 27 IBU
Yeast: American ale
Maturation: 3 to 6 months
All-Grain Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.6 kg)55%
six-row lager malt
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)14.5%
pumpkin, baked 90 min @ 350° F, smash up, add to mash
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)14%
pale crystal malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)10%
wheat malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)7%
dextrine malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)14%
mild-flavored honey, added to brew kettle
0.5 lb (227 g)—
rice hulls
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops:
0.5 oz (14 g)
60 minCascade (6% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
60 minKent Golding (5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
10 minCascade (6% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
10 minFuggle (4.4% AA)
Add at end of boil: 0.5 oz (14 g) coriander, crushed; 0.25 oz (7 g) allspice; 0.5 tsp (2 g) each of pumpkin
pie spice, cinnamon, and nutmeg; 0.25 tsp (1 g) nutmeg. Add 0.5 oz (14 g) of whole coriander to the
secondary for a little extra flavor.
Pumpkin itself is rather bland, but will make its presence known in a beer if you
know to look for it. The best way I have found to use it is to start with small “pie”
pumpkins bred for flavor rather than gigantism, hack them in half, then bake pulp side
down in a 300° F oven for one to two hours until they’re slumping, tender, and well
caramelized on the bottom. It’s best not to grease the pan, as you don’t want that stuff
in your brew. Line the pan with a sheet of heavy-duty foil. Allow to cool, then scoop
out the pulp, which can be added to the mash. Pumpkins contain about 6.5 percent
carbohydrates. At an 80-percent utilization rate, that comes to the paltry gravity
contribution of 1.005 per pound (0.45 kg) in a 5-gallon (19-liter) batch.
Any variety of winter squash can be prepared in the same way, with the same
effect. Hubbard, butternut, and turban are all good varieties for this purpose.
Headless Horseman Pumpkin Barley Wine This uses fresh-roasted pumpkin to add
flavor. Split a 5- to 7-pound pumpkin horizontally, discard seeds, place cut side down,
and roast in the oven until soft and somewhat caramelized. Brew a barley wine recipe
(see My Old Flame, p. 132), but cut the hops by one-third. Add the roast pumpkin,
mushed up, skin removed, right into the mash. If you want to do an extract version, do
a mini-mash of Pilsener malt with an amount equal to the pumpkin, then add to the
rest of the extract recipe. A pound of rice hulls will hasten the sparge. Mash as you
normally would, and complete the brew as any other barley wine. Dose your
secondary with a tiny amount of pumpkin pie spice—0.125 to 0.25 tsp (0.5 to 1 g).
Ferment with an alcohol-tolerant ale yeast, and allow plenty of time for aging.
Hopping can be high or moderate. Let the pumpkin shine by avoiding large amounts
of rough-tasting, high-alpha hops. Gravity: 1.098 (23.5 °P). Color: Deep orange-
amber.
HOLY CHIHUAHUA. IT’S CHILE BEER!
The pepper is one of the New World’s great gifts to the planet. It’s a rare
homebrewer who doesn’t crave the delicious heat of various types of chilies, although
not always in beer. In brewing chile beers, they are treated more as a spice than a
vegetable, typically being added at the end of the boil or during secondary
fermentation.
Ancho, left, and Pasilla
Two chiles with deep raisiny flavors. Pasilla is the hotter of the two.
Chiles for Brewing
Variety
Heat
(Scoville)
Description
Anaheim
1,200
Dried or green, clean peppery flavor.
Ancho
1,000
Dried version of poblano. Deep rich chocolatey flavor.
Cayenne
35,000
Very sharp, crisp, and neutral.
Chipotle
4,000
Smoke-dried ripe jalapeño. Elegant but zippy.
Guajillo
5,000
Dark fruity chile with medium heat. Dried version of chilaca.
Habañero
300,000
Complex, fruit-scented. Blistering heat.
Jalapeño
4,000
Sharp green pepper flavor. Plenty of heat.
Paprika
0 to 2,000
Very nice bright pepper flavor; hot or mild varieties.
Pasilla
2,500
Intense dried chile flavor: dark, winelike, raisiny.
Poblano
1,000
Deep complex green tastes. Heat varies considerably.
Holy Mole Bock Start with a classic bock recipe (p. 113), then at the end of the boil,
add 0.5 ounce of coriander, 4 ounces of low-fat cocoa, and 1 ounce of ancho chile—
or guajillo if you want to push the heat envelope a little.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.053 (12.5° P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.3-5%
Color: Tawny amber
Bitterness: 24 IBU
Yeast: Bavarian lager
Maturation: 2 to 3 months
You can smoke your own grain easily on a covered grill, with half a dozen briquettes off to the side (see
p. 191), with chips of oak, hickory or other smoke wood on top. I usually do an hour on the smoke.
Smoked malt requires no special treatment beyond a step infusion mash, rest an hour at 150° F (65.5° C).
Be sure to age it at below 45° F (7° C) for true lager character.
All-Grain Recipe:
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
40%pale ale malt
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
40%Munich malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
10%pale crystal malt
1.0 lb (0.45 g)
10%smoked malt
Extract +Steeped Grain Recipe:
2.5 lb (1.1 kg)
36%pale dry malt extract
2.5 lb (1.1 kg)
36%amber dry malt extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
14%pale crystal malt
1 lb (0.45 kg)
14%smoked malt
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)90 minHallertau or Crystal hops (3.5% AA)
RECIPE
Smoked Habañero Amber Lager
1.0 oz (28 g)
30 minHallertau or Crystal hops (3.5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
5 minHallertau or Crystal hops (3.5% AA)
1-3 (according to your heat-tolerance) Habañero or Scotch Bonnet peppers, chopped, seeded, and
deveined.
Scotch Bonnet Chile
Blow-your-head-off heat!
Chipotle Parched Corn Amber Ale If you can get your hands on 2 pounds of field
or Indian corn kernels, you can toast them over charcoal on your grill (see the setup
on p. 191). You want an amber kind of toast level, and it isn’t important if the toasting
is even. An alternate to dried corn is to fire-roast sweet corn. Get a small amount of
charcoal going on your grill, then roast four dehusked ears of sweet corn until they’re
light brown. Strip the kernels off and add them to a mash consisting of half six-row
and half Munich. This one can be hopped aggressively if you like. Use 0.25 to 1
ounce of chipotle, depending on your desire for heat.
SHROOMS, MAN!
People have put all kinds of crazy stuff into their beer. This includes dangerous
psychotropic drugs, hideously bitter herbs like blessed thistle, toxic heavy metals like
cobalt (improved head retention), and animal parts such as Rocky Mountain oysters,
not to mention the real oceanic shellfish of the same name. So a few culinary
mushrooms don’t seem so odd. Another thing to keep in mind is that beer is largely
the product of a fungus—yeast—so some of the tastes have certain similarities.
A Truffle Hunter and His Trained Pig
Looks like he’s got a pretty good haul!
Most mushrooms do have a certain earthiness—not often welcome in a beer—so
the choice of which mushroom to use is very important. I started all this mucking with
mushrooms in beer after reading about a rustic German schnapps infused with
chanterelle mushrooms. I’d long been a fan of these beautiful, apricot-perfumed
shrooms, and it turns out that they blend in quite well with pale and amber beers, if
the hop aroma is held back to allow the subtlety of the chanterelles to shine through.
The mushroom kingdom offers a huge variety of flavors, although in many cases
you’ll have to go tromping through the woods to get them. This is a fun and engaging
hobby on its own, of course, and there are lots of books available if you’re interested.
Fortunately, supermarkets and specialty stores are stocking a fair number of different
mushrooms in fresh and dried form these days, and many of them work as seasonings
in beer.
Please note that if you do go foraging in the woods, get a good field guide and
pay very close attention to both the pictures and especially to the written descriptions,
as there are sometimes toxic look-alike species. Wild mushrooms are quite safe to
eat—or brew with—but only if you pay attention. You should be aware that many
species must be cooked before eating; this is noted in the field guides.
In addition to food and flavor value, many mushrooms have important medicinal
qualities as well. Common properties are along tonic lines, with immune and
circulatory system benefits. This is another interesting area of study, and fits with the
long, historical tradition of using beer as a base for delivering medically useful
ingredients.
There are several easy ways to get mushroom flavors into your beer, along the
same lines as using any other spice or seasoning. Chopped mushrooms can be tossed
in during the boil, which cooks them and extracts flavor as well as the complex
carbohydrate materials bearing the medicinal properties of certain species. More
delicate mushrooms may be made into tea, then filtered, cooled, and added in the
secondary or at bottling or kegging. Species like chanterelles or truffles that don’t
require cooking can be finely chopped and soaked for a few days in vodka, strained
through a coffee filter, then added in the same manner as a tea.
Ling Zhi/Reishi
One of the ten superior ingredients of traditional Chinese medicine.
Reishi Sumo Stout Reishi mushrooms, or Ling Chi in Chinese (Ganoderma
lucidum), are a prized ingredient in Chinese traditional medicine, holding the
esteemed place of “superior.” They are a shelf fungus with a glossy, lacquered top
surface, and grow on hardwood trees. They have a delicate but rich, warm flavor, and
some specimens have a slight bitterness. They can be found occasionally in the wild,
or at any Chinatown herb shop. Health food stores will often carry capsules or other
preparations, but they may be inconvenient and/or expensive.
Chaga Sahti Chaga (Inonotus obliquus) grows on birch trees in northern climes, and
resembles nothing so much as chunks of asphalt stuck at eye level to the sides of the
trees. It has a long history in Siberia as a folk tonic, and is drunk in a tea as an
immune system booster. I’ve never seen the stuff for sale, so you’re going to have to
find it on your own. I once collected several bags near Lake Superior, so that’s the
kind of environment we’re talking about. Chaga is quite woody, and may be a
challenge to grate. Fresh off the tree it’s a little softer, but after it’s dried out, get the
hammer!
Chaga has a soft earthy/shroomy flavor, with some bitterness. I thought it fitting
to put this into a northern-style beer, so a Scandinavian sahti forms the base. Note that
this wheat- and rye-based beer can be difficult to lauter, so do not skip the rice hulls.
Reishi would be an acceptable substitute for the Chaga if you can’t get up north. See
p. 244 for more detailed instructions on sahti.
Chaga, Inonotus obliquus
This lumpy fungus is a Siberian tonic.
A Thousand Saints Truffle Tripel Start with the tripel recipe on p. 125, and make
the following modifications:
Use 1 additional pound of jaggery (or other partially refined sugar)
Ferment at a somewhat cooler temperature
Add 1.0 oz (28 g) sliced truffles to the secondary
Irish Moss, Cetraria islandica
This lichen is used in beer brewing to help coagulate proteins in the boiling wort. It is
added about ten minutes before the end of the boil.
Lobaria pulmonaria
Half fungus, half algae, this medicinal lichen was once used by Siberian monks to bitter
an ale. Saison de Pipaix contains an undisclosed “medicinal” lichen.
This is one of my regular house beers. The chanterelles add an ethereal fruitiness, very delicate and
complex. It was inspired by a reference to a German schnapps made from chanterelles.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.083 (20.5 °P)
RECIPE
Nirvana Chanterelle Ale
Alcohol/vol: 5.7 to 6.7%
Color: Amber
Bitterness: 27 IBU
Yeast: Belgian abbey
Maturation: 2 to 3 months
Take 1/2 lb of fresh chopped chanterelle mushrooms and soak in enough vodka to cover for a week or
two, then strain through a coffee filter. Discard the spent shrooms. Once the ale is ready for kegging or
bottling, add the chanterelle extraction and proceed as normal.
All-Grain Recipe:
9.5 lb (4.3 kg)64%
U.S. two-row lager malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)13%
British two-row pale ale malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)9.5%
Munich malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)9.5%
wheat malt
0.5 lb (227 g)3%
aromatic/melanoidin (dark Munich)
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.6 kg)80%
pale dry malt extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)10%
dextrine malt
0.5 lb (227 g)5%
pale crystal malt
0.5 lb (227 g)5%
medium crystal malt
Step mash: mash in at 113° F (45° C), hold for half hour, raise to 145° F (63° C), hold for half hour, raise
to 156° F (69° C), hold for 45 minutes. Mash out at 170° F (78° C) and sparge until 6.5 gallons are
collected. Note: Single infusion mash will work for this beer. Try 154° F for one hour. Add hot water to
mash out.
Hops:
0.75 oz (21 g)90 min
Saaz (3% AA)
1.5 oz (43 g)30 min
Saaz (3% AA)
1.5 oz (43g)10 min
Saaz (3% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)end of boilCascade (3% AA)
Chanterelles
My choice for the perfect beer mushroom.
Chapter 14
B
ENT
B
EERS
I
have a conflicted view on beer styles.
As historical artifacts, they’re endlessly fascinating to study.
And I think that they generally represent confluences—and
compromises—of technology, agriculture, cuisine, and
geology that make the most of what a region has to offer.
That means existing styles are usually quite wonderful to
drink, and I’m all for that.
But as a brewer who approaches the craft from an
artistic point of view, I’m not always interested in precisely
reproducing a particular style, challenging as that may be. I
do it, of course, but it’s more for the experience of getting inside and finding out what
makes a style tick. More importantly, I like to use the basic style as a springboard, a
starting point for brewing beers that go beyond style and shine as unique personal
expressions.
Beer styles exist for a variety of reasons, some of which make sense. Shaped by
geology, climate, agriculture, religion, tax policy, and many other factors, styles offer
a comfortable handle for drinkers and brewers alike. In most countries, style are pretty
clear cut, evolving over decades—even centuries, leaving little room for
experimentation. In Germany it is disreputable, if not illegal, to brew off-style.
Belgium is the exception, with half the beers there fitting no clear classification except
“other.” The ones that do claim a style often take ferocious liberties with them. It’s a
country of artists, to be sure.
Invariably, the mix of characteristics in a successful style reaches a flavorful
equilibrium. Where limited to hard water, brewers settle on malty beers, avoiding the
harshness that would result if hoppier brews were attempted. Where hops are
inexpensive, brewers figure out a way to use a lot of them. With ice unavailable to
early West Coast brewers, they used their lager yeast at higher-than-normal
temperatures, and steam beer was the happy result. There are lots of interrelated
factors. Studying them brings one to the very core of brewing science and history.
There’s much more to be done. If you’re not interested in winning contests with
these style pariahs, you can amaze and astound your friends and even yourself (to be
fair, there is usually a category or two in competitions reserved for beers outside the
mainstream styles). Such beers can vary from expectations in color or bitterness by
more subtle means, using a non-traditional malt bill to achieve the expected color, for
example.
When playing this dangerous game, you should be ever alert to the basics of
balance, water chemistry, aromatics, and all the rest. Charging off into the unknown is
a true test of your brewing knowledge and skill. Not every combination is a winner.
To get the juices flowing, here a few musings along these iconoclastic lines.
Hoppy Amber Wit Cross a pale ale with a classic Leuven wit, and you’ll get a beer
that will satisfy the cravings of hopheads and Belgomaniacs alike. Try a 70/20/10 mix
of pale, Munich, and Belgian crystal malts. Shoot for about 1.065 (15.5 °P). Hops can
be up to about 50 IBU before they get ragged. I like the classic blend of Styrian
Goldings and Saaz, usually starting with the first, finishing with the latter. And you’ll
want to spice it up with the zest of one orange (just use a potato peeler), plus a half-
ounce of freshly crushed coriander seed, both added in last five minutes of the boil.
Abbey Weiss Use your favorite weizen recipe (40 percent wheat malt, 60 percent
Pilsener malt, 22 IBU), bump up the gravity to 1.060 (14.5 °P), then ferment with
your favorite Belgian yeast at 65 to 70°F (18 to 21° C). This is what the monks would
drink if they were allowed to hang out in the beer garden all summer. I like Tettnanger
or Saaz for this concoction. Spice it up with a dash (0.25 oz or 7 g each, at the end of
the boil) of coriander and chamomile. Garnish with a slice of orange or a tiny
kumquat slice, if you dare.
Pilsener Wine What would happen if you brewed a classic American adjunct mash
beer (70 percent malt, 30 percent rice), but at a vastly higher gravity? This is not as
silly as it sounds, as high-gravity beers often benefit from the addition of tasteless
adjuncts such as corn, rice, or sugar to make them drinkably crisp. Those who have
tasted the hi-grav brews made to maximize production in big industrial breweries
report ambrosia. I’d go about 1.090 (21 °P), 50 IBU, no colored malt of any kind. You
can bypass the complex adjunct mash needed for corn or rice, and just go with corn
sugar if you like. Noble German or Czech hops are the ticket here, although (yuck!)
Cluster hops would be considered classic. If you ferment with Belgian yeast, I bet it’ll
taste a lot like Duvel!
Wheat Wine This non-traditional beer is a high-strength ale brewed from at least 30
percent wheat. The wheat seems to lighten the beer and make it more drinkable.
Normal wheat beers are lightly hopped, but with this wildcat style, you may do as you
please. Be aware that this will age much more quickly than barley wine.
This was a nutritious malt beverage rather than a beer.
SMOKIN’: BEERS, THAT IS
I had tasted smoked beers a couple of times without great enjoyment or horror,
regarding them as novelty beers, just an offbeat curiosity. My thunderclap conversion
to a card-carrying smoked beer lover occurred in a hospitality suite at the 1988
American Homebrew Association convention. Rogue brewer John Maier, then of the
Alaskan Brewery, was greeting visitors with a bathtub of earthly delights: a cool
quarter barrel of smoked porter, and its natural soul mate, a big plastic bag of smoke-
cured salmon belly strips. It was one of the defining food and beer moments of my
life, a true Beer Experience. The delicate alder smoke gave the rich, slightly sweet
porter a perfectly deranged finish of dry smokiness, and the savoriness of the salmon
played off this beverage perfectly. This was a real beer!
In the way-old days, of course, most beers were smoked. Prior to the Industrial
Revolution, malt was cured with the common fuel of the region. In Europe, this meant
wood. Out on the north part of the boggy islands of Britain and Ireland, ancient,
compressed peat was burned, as was straw, which gave a less smoky taste.
Polish beer label, c. 1930
This was the Polish name for Grätzer, the final incarnation of this once-popular
Prussian smoked wheat beer.
In the desert, where beer was born, trees were scarce and a natural energy
source—the sun—was available in abundance. Consequently, very pale sun-dried
malt could be easily produced if needed. Malt was also shaped into conical cakes like
big muffins, and baked in bread ovens that would have been powered by some local
fuel—I’m guessing dried ox dung or something equally pungent. Red and black beers
are mentioned in ancient Sumeria. In kilning, the beer would have picked up some
smoky flavors.
In medieval Europe, malt was dried in whole kernel form for brewing, as it is
now. Oak and beech, then as now, were the preferred woods for fire-kilning malts
because of their high energy density and clean-burning manners. But as far back as
the seventeenth century brewers were railing against “smoaky” flavors in beer. Coal-
and later coke-fired kilns made this switch to cleaner malt flavors possible. Hard
Welsh coal was particularly prized.
Progress reigned supreme, and the trend toward lighter, clearer, crisper (is it beer
or is it mouthwash?) flavors meant the end of smoky beers nearly everywhere.
Everywhere, that is, except Germany. From lederhosen to precision machinery
like cuckoo clocks and BMWs, this tradition-obsessed country has held onto much of
its cultural heritage, and in the Franconian region of Bavaria, smoked beers are a part
of the package. This brewery-rich area produces smoked beers in a variety of styles.
The most typical versions are amber lagers—Märzens—overlaid with the pungent,
woody tang of beechwood-smoked malt. Smoked versions of other Bavarian favorites
are also brewed.
Another smoked beer that was once quite popular has now died out. This is
Grätzer beer, a low-gravity ale brewed with oak-smoked wheat malt that survived
until recently in Poland under the name Grodzisk. Grätzer was once very popular in
West Prussia (now Poland; then part of Germany), and is part of the family of white
beers that includes Berliner weisse and Belgian witbiers. Ranging from 1.028 to 1.057
(6.5 to 13.5) in gravity, with low to moderate alcohol at 2.0 to 5.5 percent by volume,
these smoky, highly carbonated beers would have been enjoyed in quantity as an
everyday thirst-quencher. Grätzer would have been amber in color due to a proportion
of well-kilned wheat malt similar to the “aromatic” malt. Perhaps this intriguing and
delicious beer will be revived for our enjoyment sometime soon, but in the meantime,
you can make your own.
From the Fischer/Pecheur Brewery in France we get a peat-smoked beer called
Adelscott. It is pale amber in color, and relatively strong at 1.065 (15.5 °P) original
gravity. Its hint of Scotch whiskey smokiness comes from Scottish distillers’ malt. It
has a full caramel body nicely set off by the smoky malt.
Another emerging trend is to use peated distillers’ malt in Scottish ales. Although
breweries in Scotland have not done this for about three hundred years, the idea seems
workable enough. If done with restraint, the peaty malt lends a touch of dryness to an
otherwise sweetish beer. I should point out that this is in no way authentic. Scottish
brewers were only too happy to get away from the coarseness of smoked malt, so as
soon as an alternative was available, they jumped ship.
The homebrewers, as usual, are leading the charge with the really wacky stuff,
and no doubt such brews as pecan-smoked altbier, smoked imperial stout, smoked
habañero ale, and even Jamaican allspice-smoked jerked beer may be showing up,
first at homebrew meetings, and then at brewpubs across the country.
Two sorts of smoked malt are available commercially: German beech-smoked
malt, and Scottish peat-smoked malt. The German malt is made to brew Bamberg
Rauchbier, and the peated malt is used to make Scotch whiskey. Both are quite
pungent, and a pound or two will add a noticeably smoky note in a beer’s aroma and
finish, although German rauchmalts are often used for 100 percent of the batch in
Bamberg.
SMOKING MALT ON THE BARBECUE
You can smoke your own malt on a kettle-type grill or any kind of smoker. You
need a very small fire and some sort of open-bottomed basket for holding the malt. A
simple wooden frame made from 1 x 2 wood, with bronze window screen stapled to
the bottom, wrapped up the sides, and stapled some more, works great. If you’re using
a kettle grill, make the basket so it doesn’t cover the whole area, because you don’t
want the malt directly over the charcoal.
Build a very small fire (eight briquettes or equivalent of lump charcoal) off to one
side of the grill, or in the regular place in the smoker. Place a small handful of soaked
wood chips or equivalent in larger pieces on top of the coals. Fill the basket about an
inch deep, then place it in the smoker or grill and close the lid, making sure the vent
holes are open to allow a draft for the fire. You can make additional baskets and stack
them if you like; just shuffle them as smoking proceeds. Maintain this status for
between thirty minutes and two hours or longer, turning the malt and adding more
Smoking Setup
A kettle-type grill and a shallow screen basket are all that’s needed. Smoking wood
rests on small pile of charcoal. Lid should be closed while smoking.
Malt Smoking Woods
Alder Sweet woodiness, very neutral, delicate
Apple Sweet, spicy, extremely mellow
charcoal and wood chips occasionally. When done, allow to cool and use when you
like.
Beech Dry, woody, neutral, with hint of pungency
Birch Spicy, hints of wintergreen, especially in bark
Cherry A dry, complex, almondy fruitiness
Grapevine Intensely dry, herbal, and woody
Hickory Dry, mellow, mild
Maple Sweet, spicy, buttery, mild
Mesquite Delicate, slightly spicy
Peach Fruity and delicate
Pear Slightly sweet and spicy, very mellow
Peat Phenolic, sharp, oily, creosote-like
Pecan Massively spicy, pungent, intense!
Red oak Somewhat sharp, but softer than white oak
White oak Intensely pungent, acidic, musty
GRÄTZER
Once again, an odd beer reminds us of the incredible richness of beer’s past, and
of the narrowness of our own view of beer today. I hardly know which chapter to put
this in. It’s wheat, it’s smoked, it’s historical. Well, here goes.
Grätzer is a light, highly hopped wheat beer made entirely from smoked wheat
malt, and usually described as having an apple-scented aroma. Originating as early as
the fifteenth century in the Grätz district in the province of Posnan in West Prussia,
Grätzer was hugely popular in the North of Germany in the late nineteenth century.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.057 (I3.5°P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.0 to 5.7%
RECIPE
Grätzer, Real Version
Color: Hazy gold
Bitterness: 44 IBU
Yeast: German ale
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
9.0 lb (4.1 kg)
93%smoked malted wheat
0.75 lb (0.68 kg)
7%smoked malted wheat, toasted*
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
—rice hulls
The traditional mash procedure was described simply as “infusion,” with rests at 50° C (122° F), 64° C
(148° F), then a mash out at 79° C (175° F).
Hops: as below
Yield: 5 gallons (I9 liters)
Gravity: 1.057/13.5°P
Alcohol/vol: 5.0 to 5.7%
Color: Hazy gold
Bitterness: 44 IBU
Yeast: German ale
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
Ferment at 50-60°F (10 to 15.5 °C) for primary, then drop to 40-45°F for 4-week cold-conditioning.
Prime with 1 cup of corn sugar or dry malt extract.
All-Grain Recipe:
7.25 lb (3.3 kg)69%
malted wheat, smoked 1 hour on oak (see p. 191)
2.5 lb (1.1 kg)24%
U.S. six-row lager malt
0.75 lb (0.68 kg)7%
aromatic/melanoidin malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)—
rice hulls (to aid sparging)
RECIPE
Grätzer, Cheaters Version
Mash all ingredients at 148° F (64° C) for one hour. If you can swing it, do a protein rest first, one hour at
122° F (50° C).
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)
67%liquid wheat extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
11%U.S. six-row lager malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
11%malted wheat
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
11%medium crystal malt
Smoke all the specialty grains two hours over oak (see p. 191). Crush all grains and combine with 165° F
(74° C) water to mash at 150 to 155° F (65.5 to 68° C) for one hour. Drain, rinse with hot water, and add
all liquid to brew pot.
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)
60 minSaaz (3% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
20 minSaaz (3% AA)
3.0 oz (85g)
5 minSaaz (3% AA)
To brew an absolutely authentic 1884 version, you would make a 1.057 (13.5 °P)
wort from 93 percent pale, oak-smoked wheat malt, plus 7 percent of the same stuff
that has been slow-roasted to a copper color. At about the turn of the century the tax
laws were changed in Germany to favor production of schankbier, or very low-gravity
beer. After this time Grätzer slipped into this category, at about 1.032 (7.5 °P) original
gravity. Grätzer has been extinct in Germany since the 1930s, and the one brewed
until recently in Poland under the name Grodzisk is no longer in production.
Hopping was heavy, at 1 ounce per gallon (8 grams per liter) of traditional Czech
hops. A variety called Lublin, very similar to Saaz, is widely grown in Poland,
including the Posnan region. Top-fermenting yeast was used, and like most wheat
beer of the day, it was highly carbonated and packaged in heavy crockery bottles.
LICHTENHAINER
This beer is sort of halfway in character between a Berliner weisse and a grätzer.
It was a pale, top-fermenting beer with a slightly sour taste and a smoky character. It
was traditionally produced solely from smoked barley malt, although by the 1930s, it
was composed of one-third wheat and two-thirds barley malt. Unlike Berliner weisse,
the wort of which was not boiled, and which was soured by lactobacillus present in
the grain, Lichtenhainer was fermented with a conventional ale yeast, then placed in
inoculated barrels, which induced a slight souring.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.040 (9.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 3.2 to 3.7%
Color: Hazy straw
Bitterness: 23 IBU
Yeast: German ale
RECIPE
Dingelheimer’s Lichtenhainer
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
5.5 lb (2.5 kg)73%
German rauchmalt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg) 27%
German sour malt
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops:
1.5 oz (43 g)90 min Hallertau (3.5% AA)
This Icelandic label sets the mood for archaic Scandinavian brews.
In 1880, gravity was reported at 1.045 (11°P); in 1886, a different source gives it
as 1.037 (9 °P); by 1898, it was 1.031 (7.5 °P). Slightly earlier (1877) gravity is given
at about 1.044. Although this is just four data points, it does fit with the general trend
of these small beers weakening up to about World War I. For all, lactic acid content
was about 0.2 percent. I can’t find any hard facts about hopping. For the purpose of
the recipe, I’m guessing about 23 IBU.
GOTLANDSDRICKA
Many believe that Gotlandsdricka was the everyday drink of the Vikings, with
mead being reserved for more important occasions. Gotland is an island off the
southeast coast of Sweden, and the name means “good land.” Its remoteness from the
Swedish mainland has helped preserve this quaint old brew. Dricka simply means
“drink.”
Like its relative, sahti (see p. 244), Gotlandsdricka is a farmhouse ale made
primarily from barley malt, with additions of other grains: rye and wheat heavily laced
with birch-smoke, which has a faint wintergreen tang. In its traditional form it is
unhopped, bittered instead with bog bean, carduus (blessed thistle), and/or wood sage
(Teucrium sp.). Like all the Scandinavian folk brews, it reeks of juniper.
Gotlandsdricka is made in a number of styles: fresh, still, and sweet; aged still,
aged sparkling; strong, sour, aged, sparkling; and blends of aged still and sparkling.
Contemporary versions are pale to amber. Older recipes seem to indicate that the beer
used to be much darker, a truly brown beer. There’s a lot of variation in the gravity,
too, but mostly it tends to be made as a strong beer.
Unlike Finnish sahti, Gotlandsdricka is not produced commercially at present.
But if you live in Gotland, it’s possible to buy wort and ferment it yourself.
Traditional Gotland malt is quite smoky, due to six to seven days over birch fires.
This malt is produced commercially on the island, but if you want to try your hand at
this beer, you’ll have to smoke your own malt. When smoking with birch, use the bark
as well as the wood, as that’s where the wintergreen character resides. If you don’t
have a week, two to four hours on the smoker ought to do it. The malt is described as
“about as smoky” as German rauchmalt.
Juniper gets into the brew in the mash liquor, preboiled for an hour with berry-
laden branches; and as a filtering base in the bottom of the combination mash/lauter
tun called a rostbunn. At the bottom is a cross made of juniper wood, which forms the
base of the filter bed.
“There are brewers who use very old sticks, used by generations, and believe
there is some magic force in them.” —Håkan Lundgren
This detail from a Swedish label. c.1910, shows a characteristic Scandinavian wooden
tankard.
A simple infusion mash is used, a little on the warm side at 154° F. After an hour,
the wort is drained, and additional juniper-infused liquor is ladled on top of the goods.
Historically, Gotlandsdricka was fermented in oak vessels, so if you want to be
authentic, oak chips or cubes should be used. Stay away from new American oak, as
it’s way too pungent, even for this odoriferous brew. French or Hungarian would be a
better choice (see
for more on barrel wood). Some of the stronger, longer-aged
versions develop an aromatic sourness, which is what you’ll get with an oak-aged
beer.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.075 (18° P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.8 to 6.8%
Color: Hazy gold
Bitterness: 44 IBU
Yeast: Baker’s yeast
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
As noted, these rustic beers are often fermented with baker’s (pressed cake) yeast. Because the stuff is
kind of hyperactive, use a piece no bigger than the size of a sugar cube, dissolved in water before adding
to the wort.
All-Grain Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)43%
pale malt*
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)29%
biscuit/amber malt*
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)7%
flaked rye, ground to grits and precooked
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)7%
wheat malt
*Smoked several hours over birch logs, preferably with the bark still on.
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)(14%)honey (preferably a Northern variety), added to secondary
Boil juniper branches with berries in brewing liquor. A simple infusion mash is used, a little on the warm
side at 154° F. After an hour, the wort is drained, then additional juniper-infused liquor is ladled on top of
the goods to sparge.
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)
60 min
Saaz (3% AA) or other low-alpha hop
0.1 oz (3 g)
60 min
bog bean (equivalent: 50% AA) or blessed thistle
0.25 oz (7 g)
end of boil
bog myrtle (Myrica gale)
RECIPE
Gotlandsdrickå
A number of different spices and herbs can be used to season the finished drink right in the mug: mace,
clove, mugwort (Artemesia vulgaris), and/or woodruff.
Bronze Age carved stone, Gotland
ESTONIAN KODOULU
Kodoulu is yet another iteration of the family of Scandinavian folk-brews. The
name means literally “homebrew,” and it is pale in color, made from malt that may or
may not be smoked. Hops provide bitterness, and baker’s yeast is used to ferment the
brew.
The mash takes about three hours, and as in all these beers, the lauter tun is lined
with juniper branches. The first wort is simply run off rather than being sparged,
resulting in a strong wort between 1.080 and 1.120. The wort is not boiled, although
Panela
Partially-refined Latin American sugar called “piloncillo,” or “panela” comes in a
variety of forms, including this Salvadoran pair of cones wrapped in a corn husk. This
form is particularly dark and flavorful.
in traditional versions, the hops are boiled in water and the hopped water is added to
the wort, and the quantities suggest bittering rates between 40 and 60 IBU.
Jaggery
A 5-kilo block comes wrapped in burlap and purple twine. This Indian palm sugar is
pale, rich, and creamy, great for light and dark beers alike.
SUGAR, SUGAR
In violation of one of the most sacred principles of quality homebrewing, I’m
going to recommend that you add that evil, dreaded bogeyman—sugar—to your beer.
Not just any sugar. High-performance sugar. This is the dark, gooey crystallized
sweetener that bears as much resemblance to the white stuff as homebrew does to
industrial beer—the other purified white stuff. Specialty sugars with a variety of
ethnic origins are available these days, and contrary to what you might have been
taught, they really can add to a beer.
Sugar has been used as an adjunct to cheaply add gravity since the days of
wooden ships, to substitute for scarce and expensive malt, and sometimes just for its
own properties. Sugar can lighten the body of strong beers, making them more
drinkable. Abbey tripels owe much of their devastating quaffability to the addition of
up to 20 percent or so of sugar. Without it, these modestly hopped beers would be
cloying and unbalanced, so sugar is an integral part of the style.
Sugar is harvested from a number of plants: sugar cane, beets, sorghum, palm,
and maple. By slicing, crushing, or drilling a hole, a dilute, impure syrup is produced.
This juice is usually treated so as to precipitate proteinaceous material, then boiled
down to a syrup. At a certain point the sugar begins to crystallize, a process often
aided by “seeding” the solution with granulated sugar. The result is a slushy mass of
crystals in a surrounding matrix of molasses. The whole mess is put into a centrifuge,
and much of the molasses is spun off. Lather, rinse, repeat—two more times. What
remains is unrefined sugar, about 96 to 98 percent pure sucrose, the rest being dark,
highly flavored material. White sugar undergoes further refinement: dilution,
diatomaceous earth and carbon filtration, and final crystallization. The aim is to strip
out any flavoring or coloring material.
Some sugars don’t get quite this far in the refining process, and are simply poured
into molds after the concentration process and allowed to cool into bricks, blocks,
cones, or other shapes. These don’t have the intense cooked tarriness of molasses, and
are much milder and complex in flavor, and therefore more versatile in beer.
Unrefined sugars work in all colors of beers. With Pilsener malt, it can be hard to
get a lot of character in a strong blonde beer without adding too much color. An
unrefined sugar like jaggery can add a crisp drinkability as well as a unique creamy
aroma. In stouts, the dominant roasted malts can sometimes be a little one-
dimensional, and the addition of molasses or other dark sugar can be just the tonic
needed to make your black beer stand out in a crowd, perfectly in line with tradition
as well. Belgian brewers make extensive use of sugar, both white and cooked.
In a 5-gallon batch, a pound of sugar contributes 1.0094 original gravity. I would
place the top limit at about 20 percent of the total batch, with 5 to 15 percent being
more typical amounts. Using specialty sugars couldn’t be easier. Equally useful to
extract and all-grain brewers, they may be dumped directly into the brew kettle; the
only precaution is to stir well to make sure it doesn’t stick and scorch. Remember that
sugar will ferment completely, lightening the body and drying out any beer to which
it’s added.
Sugar Varieties for Brewing
NAME
COMMENTS & DESCRIPTION
CRYSTALLIZED
“CANDY” SUGAR
This is sugar that has been decoratively crystallized by dipping cotton string into
super-saturated vats of sucrose derived from sugar beets. It is available in white,
golden, and light amber varieties, and is exquisitely beautiful, with huge, sparkling
crystals. The flavor is identical to ordinary cane sugar, and for four to five bucks a
pound, isn’t much of a bargain as far as I’m concerned. But if you’re going for
sheer monastic traditionalism, this is the stuff to use in your tripel. Candy sugar
may be found in homebrew shops or by mail order sources, and also in Middle
Eastern markets, where it is sold as a decorative sweetener for tea.
DEMERARA,
TURBINADO,
MUSCOVADO,
BARBADOS
SUGARS
These are all cane sugars with varying degrees of molasses character. Demerara is
the most delicate, and is usually available at natural foods markets. Turbinado is
similar, but a bit darker. Barbados is a dark sugar made from specially cultivated
cane from the island of the same name. It has a profound “rummy” flavor, very
smooth and rich.
MOLASSES
This is what most sugar refiners are trying to get rid of: the dark, pungent material
so delicious in cookies and dark beers. There are light and dark varieties produced
at progressive stages of the sugar refining process, with flavor intensity (and
tarriness) commensurate with color. Molasses was a popular beer ingredient in
colonial times; George Washington’s famous recipe for small beer actually uses
molasses in place of malt! I find it enjoyable in darker beers such as stouts, as in
the recipe for Pirate Stout. Treacle is a confusing term. In Victorian times it was a
further refined molasses syrup, paler than light molasses. Today the term is
somewhat generic for molasses, with black treacle referring to blackstrap
molasses. Molasses weighs 11.7 pounds per gallon, 1.4 kilograms per liter.
Type
Color
Flavor
% SucroseOG lb/5
gal
Light molasses
lt. brown
full, rummy,
medium heaviness
651.0061
Dark molasses
dk. brown
very full, a little
tarry
601.0056
Blackstrap
blackvery
heavy, tarry; may
be astringent
551.0052
GOLDEN SYRUP
(Lyles)
This is a proprietary product with a light golden color and a delicate taste. It is
composed mainly of invert sugar in water, and is an excellent material to use for
stovetop caramelization.
PILONCILLO
This is a medium to dark brown cane sugar which, after partial refining, is poured
into cone-shaped molds and allowed to harden. Usually made in Colombia, it is
popular throughout Mexico and Central America, where it is used for a variety of
sweetening purposes. Taste varies by color, from a light caramel nuttiness to a
deep rumminess. It is a staple in Mexican supermercados, and is also known by
the name panela. I have used the lighter-colored version to thin down an otherwise
chewy saison; see p.119. Darker ones are a nice touch for brown ales or porters,
and perfect for purging that abbey dubbel of its cloying sweetness.
JAGGERY
Also known as gur, this creamy palm sugar is a seasonal product with such a
following that Indian grocery owners display signs enthusiastically trumpeting the
appearance of the new crop. Jaggery is somewhat soft, with a creamy texture and a
light golden color. Flavor is delicate but complex, with buttery, nutty, and fruity
aspects. This sugar has a history in British brewing beginning in the early
nineteenth century when it was used to make up for some disastrous barley
harvests. In Indian markets a 5-kilogram fez-shaped block is standard, but smaller
sizes are also available. It is also popular in parts of Southeast Asia. I found a 1-
pound, leaf-wrapped, button-shaped lump of it, called kaong, in a Philippino
market. With a creaminess similar to maple, palm sugar can simultaneously soften
and add dryness to a beer. A small amount in a weizenbock would be an elegant
touch.
DATE SYRUP
Dates have been used as a fermentable sugar since Babylonian times at least. The
date has a relatively bland flavor, with not much fruit character of its own, which
is why it’s here rather than listed with the rest of the fruits. About the same density
of honey, it should substitute pound-for-pound. Date syrup is usually available
canned in Middle Eastern markets.
MAPLE SYRUP
The high cost of this “Yankee gold” makes it expensive to use in beer, but the
result can be a special treat. It has a unique taste that makes it more of a seasoning
than anything else. Like honey, maple syrup is best added to the secondary,
avoiding the early vigorous part of the fermentation, which scrubs away much of
the precious aroma. The chewy nuttiness of the maple rounds off the roasty stuff
and adds its own unique character. Maple syrup is available in two grades, A and
B, the C grade having been upgraded and incorporated into B. Use the B if you can
get it. It is usually less expensive, and has more flavor. One helpful hint if you
want to cheat: the spice, fenugreek, has such a “maply” taste that it is a frequent
substitute for real maple in syrups and other food products. It would be a useful
additive in maple beers, to extend and enhance the maple flavor. Some
homebrewers use the undiluted sap, which has a lot of the aromatics that otherwise
get boiled away in the syrup-making process, as a base for their brew. This gives
plenty of nice maple flavor, but obviously requires proximity to the right trees at
the right time.
So let’s talk variety. For a long time, I was fascinated by the oddly shaped cones,
crystals, and blobs of sugars offered in the ethnic groceries in my Chicago
neighborhood. Eventually it dawned on me that these might be good for brewing, and
I began experimenting. I was amazed at the intensity and sheer deliciousness of them,
and was hooked. They may take some searching out in your area, but as America’s
taste becomes more adventurous, these exotic products should become easier to find.
COOKED SUGARS
Commercial brewers have long relied on cooked sugar syrups as colorants, unless
prohibited by purity laws. An early coloring material for porter was made by cooking
first wort or molasses until it thickened and turned black, at which point it was set on
fire and allowed to burn for five or six minutes, then mixed with water and saved for
use as a colorant. Essentia bina was a black syrup made by cooking sugar, and was
used in porter production at the rate of 2 pounds per barrel. It was legally allowed
only between 1811 and 1817. After that time it was superseded by the newly patented
black malt.
Homemade Caramel
By simply cooking sugar until it darkens, a range of flavorful caramels can be
produced.
These syrups today have a lot more subtlety, and are available in a number of
shades. They have commercial application as color adjusters in mainstream beers,
where exacting standards are needed to match finely honed consumer expectations.
They are also used in a more creative way in Belgium. The Chouffe brewery uses
them to provide much of the character for their amber and dark beers. One should be
aware that dark sugars lack the kind of melanoidins present in dark grains that have
certain protective effects against oxidation, so beers colored exclusively with sugars
may age poorly. Colored sugars also figure heavily in the flavor and appearance of
Flanders red sour beers. The Belgians love this stuff. When the old recipes mention
“candi” sugar, this is usually what they were talking about, not the expensive
crystallized stuff sold to homebrewers under that name. It is commonly used in sour
red beers, and was an important ingredient in the blended beer called faro.
Unfortunately, these sugar syrups are not available in the homebrew market. The
good news is that you can make them yourself by cooking sugar until the desired
color is reached. Use a heavy saucepan or skillet for this. Mix white sugar with a
small amount of water, and apply medium heat. Once a smooth syrup has been
formed, do not stir, as this encourages crystallization, which you do not want. The
water will slowly boil away and the sugar will start to darken. Once the color change
happens, it goes fast, so be prepared to pull it off the heat quickly. You can add cold
water carefully (watch for spattering) to stop the browning process and redissolve the
sugar, or just pour it right into your kettle of wort.
There are four chemical classes of caramel, and they are produced industrially for
use in food, soft drinks, beer, and other uses. The different classes react differently to
pH, proteins, and other factors, and not all of them are stable in beer. Some types may
throw a haze or lose color as the beer ages. Class III caramels, which are made from
invert sugar cooked together with an inorganic source of nitrogen, are the type used in
beer.
Malt extract may be cooked down until it darkens, with equally delicious but
different results. You get a big load of Maillard reaction products (see p. 42) that are
different from cooked sugar flavors. There is historical precedence for this in England
and the Continent. Darkly cooked wort was used as a colorant in porter around 1800,
after brown malt was abandoned due to its inefficiency and high cost, but before the
method of roasting malt to a palatable black was worked out in 1817. A similar
cooked sugar product called Porterine was used to brew porter in nineteenth century
America.
In Germany, a brewmaster’s trick sometimes employed was to preheat the brew
kettle before the first wort was run in, causing caramelization—a sort of instant
decoction as far as the flavor goes. This can be done in the home brewery, but you are
better off putting a pint or so of the thick first runnings in the kettle and boiling it
down until it becomes thick and begins to develop some color. Then you can flood
additional wort on top of it and stop the process.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.070 (17 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.4 to 6.2 %
Color: Inky black
Bitterness: 46 IBU
Yeast: British ale
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
Mash at 152° F for an hour. Sparge as usual. Add molasses to kettle and boil for 90 minutes. Ferment
with your favorite ale yeast at moderate temperatures of 60 to 65° F. Rack to secondary, allow to clear,
and bottle or keg as usual. If additional spice flavor is desired, add the above mix of crushed spices to
some vodka, allow to stand a week or two, then run through a coffee filter and add to your beer at
bottling.
All Grain Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)
46%pale ale malt
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
31%German/Belgian Munich malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
11.5%black patent malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
11.5%dark (blackstrap) molasses
Extract+ Steeped Grain Recipe:
5.5 lb (2.5 kg)
58%amber dry malt extract
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
16%black patent malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
16%dark (blackstrap) molasses
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
10%dark crystal malt
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)
90 minWillamette (5% AA)
1.25 oz (35g)
90 minWillamette (5% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
30 minStyrian Golding (5.5% AA)
RECIPE
Black Ship Pirate Stout
At end of boil, add: 1.0 oz (28 g) of crushed coriander; 1.0 tsp (4 g) allspice; 0.5 tsp (2 g) black pepper.
Post-fermentation: zest of one orange or tangerine, soaked in vodka to cover, then added at bottling.
“Ale and Beef” Tonic, c. 1890
Sure, it’s a great combination, but in the same bottle?
Toffee Ale Put a few ounces of liquid malt extract in a heavy saucepan and start
cooking it until color starts to turn. Once the color starts to change, it will happen
quickly. When you pull it off the heat, you can scrape it out of the pan and into your
brew kettle, then use a little hot water or wort to rinse the remainder out of the pan.
A SMATTERING OF RADICAL TECHNIQUES
Parti-Gyle Brewing Several hundred years ago, beers were mashed in two, or more
often three, mashings, with successive infusions resulting in weaker and weaker beers.
Each beer was run off to its own fermenting vat, or gyle. This served the private or
small commercial brewer well, producing a range of two or three different products
with a single day’s brewing. This is obviously a cumbersome system, and was
abandoned as soon as brewing became industrialized, starting about 1700. The Scots
were pioneers in this, and became famous for their “Scotch system” of brewing,
which included the then-radical concept of sparging. By 1900, parti-gyle brewing was
abandoned.
It takes a bit of calculating and recipe-twiddling to come up with one grain bill
that makes two equally wonderful beers. If you’re trying to brew a barley wine, it may
be the way to go, because the only way to get a really high wort gravity is to use only
the heavy first runnings. This is a way to get something useful out of the considerable
extract that remains behind, rather than simply throwing it away.
The crucial tidbit of information here is that the first third of your wort will
contain half of your extract. To put it another way, the first third will be twice as
strong as the second two-thirds. This is the perfect ratio for brewing, say, a barley
wine at 1.090 and a bitter at 1.045, a ratio of 2:1. If you use the same amount of grain,
but choose to split the batch half and half, the difference in strength will be more
pronounced—for 1.083 and 1.037, a ratio of about 2.2:1. For both of these examples,
the master batch was 1.060, if it were all mixed together, entire, as they say.
Capping This is a simple technique traditionally employed to boost the gravity of the
third, small beer runnings of a parti-gyle batch. The malt of choice was traditionally
amber (biscuit), which works well. Crystal malt works very well for this purpose, as it
contains sugars in a soluble form, and requires no further mashing. The “cap” malt is
crushed as normal, then either strewn on the surface or stirred into the upper layer of
the mash, allowed to rest fifteen minutes, then run off. This is a good tool for
manipulating the character of the smaller beer by adding dark or other colored malts.
Crystal works especially well in this situation as it needs no further mashing and can
boost the body, useful for second-running beers.
Yield: 2.5 gallons barley wine + 5 gallons of bitter
Gravity: 1.090 (21.5 °P) + 1.045 (11°P)
Alcohol/vol: 7.3 to 8.5% + 3.7 to 4.3%
Color: Medium amber + light amber
Bitterness: 46 IBU
Yeast: British ale
Maturation: 6 to 12 months (barley wine), 4 to 6 weeks (bitter)
All-Grain Master Recipe:
7.5 lb (3.4 kg)
64%Maris Otter pale ale malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
13%biscuit malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
13%aromatic malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
9%dark crystal malt
Mash with a simple infusion at 150 to 152° F (65.5 to 66.5° C). Dough-in should be fairly thick, at 1 to
1.25 quarts per pound. Be sure to mash out by adding hot water at 190° F (88° C) to arrive at a final mash
temperature of 170° F (76.5° C). The first third of the runoff will be the barley wine, so collect a little
over 2.5 gallons (9.5 liters) and boil this separately. The remaining two-thirds will be half the strength,
and will be the bitter. Sparge as normal. If a darker second beer is desired, add some fresh dark malt to
the top of the goods after you’ve run off the barley wine.
For hopping, see the barley wines (p. 132) and bitter (p. 79) recipes elsewhere in this book.
RECIPE
Big Stinky & Little Stinky: a Basic Parti-Gyle Recipe
Satz Mashing This is a traditional mashing process used in southern Germany—
Augsburg, Ulm, Nürnberg, Bamberg, Kulmbach—up until the late nineteenth century.
It’s a somewhat cumbersome process, but its advocates claimed a clearer beer and a
“more harmonious” taste. This technique was primarily used with dark malt.
The malt is infused with room temperature water, then allowed to stand for two to
five hours. This cold mash is then drained, and the runoff—called “satz”—is split; a
portion of it is mixed with mash liquor in the kettle and boiled for thirty minutes,
while the rest is run into an underback. The boiled kettle liquid is reinfused into the
mash, raising the temperature to 140 to 144.5° F (60 to 62.5° C); this is then held for
fifteen to thirty minutes. The remainder of the cold satz is added to the boil kettle.
Immediately, some of the first wort is run off into the underback and some into the
cool ship, where it is allowed to cool (This gets added later to the kettle to boil with
the hops).
About two thirds of the first wort in the underback is run into the kettle and
brought slowly to boiling, then underlet into the mash tun, bringing the temperature of
the mash to 144.5 to 149° F (62.5 to 65° C) after stirring. Now the thick portion of the
mash is taken from the tun and placed into the kettle, boiled approximately forty five
minutes, then returned back into the tun, bringing the mash temperature to
approximately 158° F (70° C). The kettle is cleaned, then the satz that has been idling
on the cool ship is run into it, and immediately the hops are added. After sixty to
ninety minutes of mashing the wort is drawn off the mash tun into the kettle and
boiled with the hops. It is likely that brewers using this process were trying to cope
with poorly modified malts. A long stand in cold water would have ensured adequate
hydration and would also have allowed proteolytic and glucanase enzymes plenty of
time to do their thing, which could have resulted in clearer beers. The early mixing of
hops with the satz in the brew kettle constitutes first wort hopping, which results in
better hop flavor. This mashing technique has some similarities to Belgian “slijm”
mashing (see p. 219), one result of which was to produce a poorly fermentable wort.
Note the very short first saccharification rest before the liquid is run off, which
probably keeps all of the enzymes from being removed from the mash and destroyed
in the kettle.
Blinking This was a technique practiced by brewers in the North of England a few
centuries ago. Their reputation at the time was for luminously clear, strong October
beers. The technique was for wort clarification. Rather than running off the mash
directly into the kettle, the wort was directed into a vessel where the solids were
allowed to settle out. In modern times, recirculating the wort until it runs clear
achieves the same result.
Who knows where further experimentation will take us?
JUST PLAIN CRAZY
Sometimes, radical brews can be brewed from quite ordinary ingredients—in
stupefying quantities. Nashville homebrewer Tom Vista has anointed himself the Hop
God and if divinity were based on quantity alone, he would surely qualify. If you were
wondering how hoppy a beer can be, well, then just brew this one. Although the wort
won’t absorb much more than 100 IBU of bitterness, this calculates out at 473 IBU!
And that’s without hops in the mash or in the sparge water.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.070 (17° P)
Color: Deep amber
Bitterness: 100 IBU
Yeast: American or British ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 weeks
RECIPE
Thomas Vista’s Hop God Ale
Note: these extract figures are calculated for 7 gallons, not 5, as lots of wort remains trapped in the giant
pile of hops.
“I have been known to dry hop in as many as three stages, but lately have been avoiding as final addition
seems to be enough for both flavor and aroma. But if I do dry hop, I have switched to using pellets and
will use the same variety as my main flavor hop.”
All-Grain Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.6 kg)49%
Maris Otter or Golden Promise pale malt
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)24%
Moravian Pilsener malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)12%
biscuit/amber malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)9%
torrefied wheat
0.5 lb (227 g)3%
pale crystal (20°L)
0.5 lb (227 g)3%
medium/dark crystal, (60°L)
The Hop God speaks: “This is mashed in at between 156° F and 158° F (God I love dextrins!) at between
1.15 and l.25qts/lb. Hops can be added as early as the mash (pellets are preferred just for ease of use). I
have hopped the sparge water before and will again. As I have refined the effort I now try to feature a
flavor variety; however I just can never get enough...”
First Wort Hopping (see p. 53):
4.0 oz (113 g)
Columbus (15% AA) 52
4.0 oz (114 g)
flavor hop: Cascades, Liberty, Crystal or Willamette 108
Standard Hopping:
4.0 oz (113 g)
60 min
Centennial (10% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
45 min
Centiannial or Columbus (10% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
30 min
Centennial or Cascades (10% AA)
8.0 oz (227 g)
15 min
aroma hops, your choice (Cascade—6% AA)
8.0 oz (227 g)
end of boil
aroma hops, your choice (Cascade—6% AA)
The Hop God’s Kettle, post-boil
Two pounds of hops in the boil sucks up so much wort that the recipe must be adjusted
to replace the missing wort.
Photo: Thomas Vista
Chapter 15
T
HE
M
YSTERIES OF
B
ELGIUM
B
y now I would think you’d be
forming a
picture of Belgium as the land that time forgot, at least when it
comes to beer styles. These messy remnants of the past are
always fascinating, and they create an atmosphere in which
nearly anything is possible—great from an artist’s point of view.
Sometimes these archaic beers are pretty straightforward to
brew, but sometimes the elaborate techniques employed can
leave you feeling as if you’ve stepped off the time machine into
the Dark Ages of brewing. Welcome to Chapter 15.
If you look at the old brewing books, there’s no end to the
crazy schemes: eight-hour boils, hops boiled separately from the
mash, grain soaked in cold water, and on and on. Before the nineteenth century,
brewers knew how to brew the way they did, but usually not why. Science, in the
service of industrial efficiency, got a lot of these old procedures converted into more
sensible practices, leaving only a few quirky beers that needed special techniques to
produce the desired qualities.
Some of these techniques are certainly more challenging and time-consuming for
the brewer, but produce results that can’t be obtained any other way. Besides, what
kind of pursuit is it that has no challenges?
A PERFECTLY WHITE BEER
Pick your adjective: elusive, sublime, luscious, mysterious, maddening. White
beer is all of these and more. When perfectly brewed, it is a lovely combination of
grain and seasoning, a billowing, frothy, yet satisfying quencher. Yet I must say that I
am more frequently disappointed by this style—in both commercially brewed and
homebrewed versions—than any other.
The standards are high. The beers of his youth recreated so wonderfully by Pierre
Celis make the many poor renditions all the more painful to taste. But with the right
approach, truly fine white beer is within the reach of almost every homebrewer.
As a bit of background, the beers repopularized by Celis are but one regional
variation of a broad and ancient style that stretched from the Baltic to Cornwall, and
nearly vanished only within this century. References to white beer brewers’ guilds—
distinct from red beer brewers—appear by the late Middle Ages. Interestingly, white
beers were found in places such as Hamburg and Nuremburg, also known as the
earliest trading centers for hops.
Wheat, oats, spelt, and other grains were often, but not always, a feature of these
white beers. They are invariably low-to-medium-strength everyday beers, fermented
quickly and consumed young and cloudy.
The style might still be dead if Celis had not revived it in his native Hoegaarde,
Belgium, which was known for witbier, although the style we know is more famously
referred to as Louvain/Leuven white (after the university town southeast of Brussels,
home to Belgium’s famous brewing school). During the seventeenth century, there
were forty-two breweries in Leuven making witbier and its darker cousin,
peetermann. Much of the production was exported to Brussels, Antwerp, and the
Netherlands. Jean DeClerck (1957) mentions the then-abandoned Hoegaarde beer in
passing, saying only that it “...had a very acid palate.”
Witbier features a modest gravity, light hopping, pale color, permanent haze,
delicate spiciness, a slight lactic tang, and a firm, milkshake sort of body that comes
from a thorough mashing of unmalted wheat and oats.
Malt for witbier was traditionally “wind malt” that was dried in the rafters
without using any source of heat. This would suggest we use the palest variety
available, Pilsener malt. For the unmalted wheat, you want the lowest protein content
you can find—a soft wheat. I get very good results from the flaked soft red wheat that
comes from my local hippie market. The whole-kernel soft white variety will work
just as well.
Regular “old-fashioned” oatmeal is the norm, although if you’re doing the
infusion version, instant oatmeal is preferred.
All of your raw, huskless grains should be ground to a fine grits consistency. This
is essential to getting a good yield, and may require something other than your regular
malt mill. I use an old grocery-store coffee mill.
Many of these early white beers fermented unboiled wort, or had a portion of
unboiled wort added to the batch, either of which will cause a lactic souring of the
beer. This requires that the beer be consumed quickly, usually within a couple of
weeks, as the increasing sourness will make the beer unpalatable in time. The easiest
and lowest-risk way to get a true lactic character is to include some acidified malt in
your mash. Many German maltsters make this Reinheitsgebot-certified product by
naturally souring the malt with lactic bacteria, giving the same yogurt-like tang you’d
get with a sour side fermentation. One to 3 percent will do—perhaps more if you wish
to go with an older historical style.
While you can brew a white beer with an infusion mash, I find it impossible to
get the right kind of texture this way. Unmalted wheat and oats are difficult materials
to brew with, and need to be boiled during the process in order to get much out of
them. After a lot of trial and error, I have settled on the classic American adjunct-
mash as the best process. And in fact, this is just about identical with a procedure
detailed in Belgium around 1900 for this style.
In this method, a small amount (5 to 10 percent of the total batch) of six-row malt
is added to the wheat and oats. This is stewed at 122° F (50° C) for fifteen minutes,
then raised to 150° F (65.5° C) and held for another fifteen minutes. This goo is then
heated further and boiled for fifteen minutes. At this point, you should have your malt
mash at the protein-rest stage (122° F/50° C)), and the boiled grains, when added to it,
will bring the whole mash up to 155° F (68.5° C). This fairly high mash temperature
is used to produce a wort with large amounts of unfermentables, which helps
contribute to its texture. After forty-five minutes of mashing, the mash is raised to
170° F (76.5° C) to stop enzyme activity and help liquefy the whole thing.
Traditionally, the wheat chaff removed at threshing was added back to help provide a
filter bed. Rice hulls, about 1 pound per 5 gallons (0.45 kilograms per 19 liters), will
do the same thing. Be sure not to let the bed drop below 160° F (71° C) during
sparging or runoff will become very difficult.
If all of this seems a bit overwhelming to you, there’s a workaround. With a high
proportion of malted wheat (70 percent is about right), you can achieve a similar
thick, lubricious body. Use instant oats rather than the old-fashioned kind, as they
require no precooking.
If you’re an adventurous extract brewer, I would urge you to attempt a smaller-
scale version of this, using the extract + mini-mash version of the recipe. It is an
excellent opportunity to observe all kinds of mash chemistry at close range.
Boiling can be as long or short as you like. Leuven wit employed a boil of one to
two hours. Its darker sibling, peetermann, was usually boiled for about six hours to
develop color.
One cheap trick for creating a permanent haze or “shine” is to add a tablespoon of
ordinary flour to the kettle. Unlike a protein haze, this won’t go away as the beer
warms up in your glass.
SEASONING
This has been the subject of much speculation. Orange peel and coriander are
universally mentioned in old recipes for the style. I have had good results with every
kind of orange peel except the dried chunks of Curaçao found in homebrew shops,
which I feel impart too much pithy bitterness and not enough orange aroma. Any sort
of orange-colored citrus will work: navel oranges, tangerines, mandarins, or
kumquats. I have had the best results with Seville oranges, from which marmalade is
made. These are sold as “sour oranges” in Caribbean markets, and are dull, gnarly
blemished fruits with juice as sour as lemons and an intensely aromatic peel. Use a
zester or a potato peeler to carve off all the orange-colored outer peel. Since we’re
trying to produce a hazy beer, there’s no problem with using marmalade, whose
starchy pectin normally precludes its use in beer.
Grocery store coriander is too vegetal and celery-like to give good results. Buy
your coriander at an Indian market if possible. This variety can be distinguished by its
larger size, more oblong shape, and paler color. The aroma is sweeter, more delicate,
less “piney,” and more citrusy.
Now for the mystery spice. Although I have personally been told by a Belgian
brewmaster that he uses cumin, I think this may just be a trick to throw us off the
track. I like chamomile, a small flower with a soft, Juicyfruit aroma. I have brewed
these beers with and without, and the beer tastes more like Celis with the chamomile.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.052 (12.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 3.6 to 4.2%
Color: Hazy straw
Bitterness: 28 IBU
Yeast: Belgian wit or wheat ale
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
All-Grain Traditional Adjunct-Mash Recipe:
For adjunct mash:
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)30%
unmalted wheat (see text)
2.0 lb (0.90 kg) 20%
U.S. six-row malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 10%
oatmeal (make sure it’s fresh)
For malt mash:
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)30%
two-row Pils malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 10%
Munich malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) —
rice hulls (may be stirred in at end of mash)
Create two separate mashes and follow the schedule as outlined previously in text.
All-Grain Infusion Mash Recipe (Cheater’s Version):
5.5 lb (2.5 kg)
58%malted wheat
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
21%U.S. six-row malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
10.5% Munich malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
10.5% oatmeal (make sure it’s fresh)
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
—rice hulls
This uses a normal single infusion mash, with saccharification at 148° F (64.5° C).
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
RECIPE
Wit Guy White Ale
6.0 lb (2.7 g)
75%wheat extract syrup
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
12.5% U.S. six-row malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
12.5% oatmeal (make sure it’s fresh)
0.5 lb (227 g)
—rice hulls
Give this an hour rest at 148 to 150° F (64.5 to 65.5° C).
Hops:
0.5 oz (14 g)
Northern Brewer (7% AA) 90 min
1.0 oz (28 g)
Tettnang or Saaz (7% AA) 30 min
1.0 oz (28 g)
Tettnang or Saaz (7% AA) 5 min
zest of 1 to 2
oranges (see text) 5 min
0.5 oz (14 g)
Indian coriander, crushed, 5 min
0.25 oz (7 g)
chamomile, 5 min
Other spices are possibilities: grains of
paradise, with its peppery spruciness, is great for
stronger versions; juniper adds a soft, wintry
aroma; star anise adds warmth and roundness,
especially suitable for stronger, amber variations.
A touch of sage might add a dry earthiness.
Spices can be added to the last five minutes of
the boil. Otherwise, “It is just for the neighbors,”
as Pierre Celis says. I also like to use vodka
extraction of spices, which can be added to the
beer at bottling or kegging (see p. 153).
Hops should be mild ones. I like Saaz, Sterling, or Tettnang—their spiciness
builds on the other seasonings very nicely. Although hopping is traditionally light, I
have found that the style works well with fairly high hop rates, as long as you stay
away from the higher-alpha types that obscure the delicate spicing.
Most Belgian yeasts will add a spicy/fruity overlay, but be aware that their flavor
profiles are especially sensitive to temperature, pumping out more spiciness at higher
temperatures. Generally, fermentation temperatures between 68 to 75° F (20 to 24° C)
are best.
Peetermann This is another form of witbier associated with Leuven/Louvain; it was
at one time more celebrated than wit. Darker, a bit stronger at 1.045 (11 °P) instead of
the 1.036 to 1.042 of wit, and with double the hop rate (0.7 to 0.9 ounces or 20 to 26
grams per 5 gallons), it is brewed in much the same manner, but without the oats and
with the addition of a small amount of slaked lime (calcium hydroxide) in the kettle.
This makes the beer a little darker— especially when combined with a six-hour boil.
It is described in the old books as a brown beer.
L’Orge d’Anvers—the Barley Beer of Antwerp Antwerp was famous for a barley-
malt beer brewed from pale malt and a little wheat (4 to 12 percent) and oats (3
percent). Typically, it used the same Byzantine mashing procedure as witbier, where
the first mash is removed and boiled while the grist is remashed with boiling water.
The effect of this is to kill off the enzymes, so the resulting beer ferments fairly
poorly—a plus in weaker beers.
Three mashes were performed, and the third would go to produce a small beer.
The wort was boiled—the first runnings for three to four hours, which added some
color, although sometimes slaked lime was added to artificially darken it as in
peetermann. The various runnings were either fermented separately or blended
together to produce beers of various strengths. At around 1.075 to 1.080 (18 to 19 °P),
the full-strength beer would keep for a year if brewed in the winter. Hopping was
reported (in the 1880s) at 2 to 2.7 ounces (57 to 77 grams) per 5 gallons, which would
have put it around 30 to 40 IBU.
A “white” variation was brewed in a similar manner, but with an unspecified
amount of buckwheat added, and a shorter boil to keep the color down. This was a
weak beer, using just 4.7 pounds (2.1 kilograms) for 5 gallons, resulting in a wort of
about 1.025 to 1.030 (6 to 7 °P), depending on efficiency. Hopping rate was about an
ounce “of old hops.”
STRANGE BELGIAN BREWS
Alsembier A wormwood-infused beer in eastern Belgium, documented in 1674, but
likely brewed for a very long time. It was flavored by either wormwood, artemesia
absinthium, or mugwort, artemesia vulgaris.
Caves (Kaves) or Liers Bier Around 1820, two kinds were brewed in Liers, in the
province of Liège in eastern Belgium: one for local consumption and another called
Ghentse Caves that was exported primarily to Ghent. The Lierse caves was stronger,
drawing 25 barrels from the grist, and using only the first runnings. The Ghentse
added the second runnings and drew 35 barrels off the same amount of grist.
Proportions were 69 percent malt, 22 percent unmalted wheat, and 9 percent oats. A
five- to six-hour boil was used. Hops were used at the rate of 0.75 to 1 ounce (21 to 28
grams) per 5 gallons (19 liters). The flavor is said to be refreshing, and it was drunk
mainly in the summer. Brouwerij Goetze brews a 5.8 percent a/v version
commercially.
Diest Soft and very dark, this was a sweet porterish brew, very popular in Brussels
before the mid-nineteenth century. The older recipes incorporated brown malt,
although newer recipes use caramel malt instead. Sources give the following
proportions: 30 percent each of wheat, pale malt, and brown (or dark caramel) malt,
plus about 10 percent oats. Diest was very lightly hopped, and the fermentation was
arrested by adding lime, leaving the beer sweet and low in alcohol. It is very nutritive
(511 calories per liter versus 400 for other beers), and for this reason it was
recommended for nursing mothers. A related style, Gildenbier, was a much beefier
product that could be as strong as 1.140 (33 °P), although versions around 1.070 (16.6
°P) were more common. In later days, diest was a nonalcoholic malt extract drink or
tonic.
Belgian Malt-Beer Technique
For all (or mostly) malt beers, this procedure was followed: The grain was sometimes
mashed-in cold, but more often at about 108° F (42° C), and was held for half an hour
as a protein/acidification rest. This mash was thick, at 0.6 quarts per pound. Then, 0.4
to 0.8 quarts per pound of water at 158 to 167° F (70 to 75° C) was underlet, raising
the mash temperature to 122 to 131° F (50 to 55° C). At this point, the mast taps were
opened, allowing the cloudy liquid, enzyme-rich portion to run off. This turbid wort
was transferred to the “chain copper,” a boiling kettle fitted with rotating chains
designed to keep particles from settling on the floor of the kettle where they would be
subject to scorching. This wort was heated rapidly to boiling, with only a short rest
(fifteen to thirty minutes, I would guess) for starch conversion along the way.
Mars/Meerts A rather generic term for a small beer made from second runnings. This
product is obviously very light at 1.035 (8.5° P) or less. The names—in French and
Flemish—mean March, the last month it was allowed to be brewed before summer.
Mars is perhaps best known as the diluting beer that is mixed with lambic, along with
some dark cooked sugar, to make the blended beer called faro, although faro was also
drawn directly from the second runnings of lambic wort. Mars came from the third
runnings of the same mash and so would have the same raw wheat and malt
During this time, water near the boiling point is added to the mash, bringing the
temperature of the goods up to 158° F (70° C). Since most of the diastatic enzymes
are drained away along with the cloudy wort, conversion is relatively slow. After
forty-five minutes, taps are opened, and the bright wort is run off into the
conventional boiling copper. The boiled turbid wort is then added back at either
boiling temperature, or to assure more complete conversion, at 176° F (80° C).
Typically, the resting temperature of this stage was about 167° F (75° C), favoring the
production of dextrins. Once the wort runs clear, it is pumped up to the copper,
joining the clear wort from the earlier mash, which has been maintained at about 167°
F (75° C) to facilitate conversion of any undigested starch still remaining in it by the
infinitesimal amounts of enzymes still present in the later, clear wort.
proportions as lambic. The term Mars was used to describe similarly light beers in
Poland. Note that there is a French beer called “bière de Mars,” which is altogether
different.
Seef A very ancient beer from Antwerp, little is known of it except that it was spiced
with coriander, cloves, and cinnamon, according to a 1793 reference.
Uitzet Brewed in the same manner as l’Orge d’Anvers (see p. 208), but from barley
malt, wheat, and oats. Said to have been invented in 1730 by an innkeeper in
Wetteren, it was widely popular in Ghent and Bruges during the nineteenth century.
Like the Antwerp (Anvers) beers, uitzet featured a five- to six-hour boil. Ordinary,
double, and triple versions were brewed from combinations of multiple mashings.
Zoeg A pale, lightly hopped, and very sweet ale popular in the sugar-producing towns
of Tirlemont, Tienen, and others. The name means “sow,” although it was also called
strieep. It was fairly weak—only about 1.035 (8.5 °P)—and had a reputation as a
healthful, nourishing drink, probably due to the 2.5 pounds (1.1 kilograms) of sugar
per hectoliter added before it was shipped out.
The range of historic Belgian styles is even more dazzling than the current offerings.
OFF-WHITE
With the traditional product so well defined, one would expect that to deviate
from tradition would be to invite the whole glorious creation to fall apart into muddled
chaos, but the spirit of Belgian witbier endures. It’s a pretty good platform for
vamping. You can make it stronger, darker, or hoppier, and the essence of it still
shines through.
If you think about it, this makes sense. Historically, white beers were brewed all
across Northern Europe, from about 1400 on. It stands to reason that brewers in
different cities would evolve different interpretations.
This is a great framework within which to experiment. I was drawn into this years
ago in an attempt to recreate Hogaarden’s Verboden Vrucht, which I hadn’t tasted but
knew to be stronger, darker, and maltier, with similar orange and coriander spicing as
the wit. After a few experiments the beer got to be pretty good, but an error in hop
calculation in one brew led to a doubling of hop bitterness. This turned out to be a
delicious mistake and opened up the style to further rearrangement.
Stronger versions exist in the real world, too. There’s a beer restaurant in Bruges
called Den Dyver which has an 8 percent alc/vol version brewed for it by Brouerij de
Gouden Boom, and as one would expect, it is absolutely fabulous with food. In this
country, Tim Rastetter and Ray Spangler cooked up a barley wine-strength version
called Wit Lightning at the short-lived BrewWorks in northern Kentucky a few years
back (whoooeee!). So there are plenty of options.
The same notes on procedures, especially the need for an intense adjunct mash,
apply to these beers as well.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.080 (21.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 6.5 to 7.5%
Color: Medium gold
Bitterness: 27 IBU
Yeast: Belgian wit or wheat ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
7.0 lb (3.2 kg)47%
Pilsener malt
5.0 lb (2.3 kg)33%
malted wheat
2.0 lb (0.90 kg) 13%
Vienna malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 7%
oatmeal
RECIPE
Nit-Wit Strong Wit
0.5 lb (227 g)—rice hulls
Standard infusion mash: 1 hour at 150° F (65.5° C).
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
5.0 lb (2.3 kg)48%
wheat extract syrup
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)38%
pale dry malt extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 13%
pale crystal malt
0.5 lb (227 g)7%
instant oatmeal, precooked
0.25 lb (113 g) —
rice hulls
Hops & Spices:
1.0 T (14 g)
60 min white flour (added to create a starch haze)
1.0 oz (28 g)
60 min Styrian Golding (5.5% AA)
0.75 oz (21 g)
5 minStyrian Golding (5.5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
5 minSaaz (3% AA)
2.0 T (28 g)
5 minmarmalade
1.0 oz (28 g)
5 mincoriander, crushed
0.25 tsp (1 g)
5 mingrains of paradise, crushed
The recipes that follow use lower proportions of wheat and oats than a normal wit
because for the higher gravity beers, smaller proportions are needed to give an
adequate amount of character. All of these recipes are formulated for a standard
infusion mash; rest temperature is indicated in the recipes. Yield is calculated at 75
percent— your mileage may vary. A pound or two of rice hulls will aid in sparging. If
you want to brew these with extract, I would suggest replacing all the pale malts
(wheat and barley) with a good wheat extract (pound-for-pound for liquid extract; 25
percent less for dry), then using a mini-mash for the colored malts. Hop rates are
calculated for whole hops; for pellets, use 25 percent less. Be sure to scrub citrus fruit
thoroughly before zesting. All the spices should be added for the last five minutes of
the boil. Use a not-too-extreme Belgian yeast strain, at temperatures in the high 60s if
you can manage it. Carbonation for all of these should be on the high side.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.070 (17 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.2 to 6.2%
Color: Tawny amber
Bitterness: 25 IBU
Yeast: Belgian wit or wheat ale
Maturation: 6 to 10 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)45%
Munich malt
5.0 lb (2.3 kg)37%
malted wheat
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 7.5%
medium crystal (40°L) malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 7.5%
oatmeal, toasted for 20 minutes @ 300° F, or until it smells like cookies
0.5 lb (227 g)4%
dark crystal (80°L) malt
0.5 lb (227 g)—
rice hulls
Mash at 154° F (68° C).
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
5.0 lb (2.3 kg)53%
malted wheat liquid extract
2.0 lb (0.90 kg) 21%
amber dry malt extract
Plus: the same quantities of the three specialty grains, above.
Hops & Spices:
1.0 oz (28 g)
60 min Northdown (6.5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
5 minNorthdown (6.5% AA)
zest of 2
5 mintangerines (outer zest only)
1.5 oz (43 g)
5 mincoriander, crushed
2 whole
5 minstar anise or 0.25 tsp (1 g) ground
RECIPE
Claude of Zeply Amber Strong Wit
OUD BRUIN: FLANDERS SOUR BROWN ALE
Sometimes, a single sip of a beer can transport
you back through the centuries, a sort of liquid time
machine. The sour beer of Flanders, with its unique
tangy, fruity aroma, magical ruby color, and
refreshing yet earthy taste, can do just that.
There was a time when stainless steel was just a
twinkle in an alchemist’s eye, when wood was the
only practical material for constructing fermenting
vessels. In addition to a high load of maintenance
obligations, wood fermenters come with a whole zoo
of little creatures that snuggle in and use the beer as
their own personal picnic grounds. This can be a
nightmare if it goes wrong, but such microbes can be
extremely elegant, adding a profound, earthy perfume to the brew, topped off with
lactic and acetic acids, which add a quenching tartness.
Present commercial versions are made with a small proportion—less than 25
percent—of soured beer, blended into a batch fresh from a few weeks fermentation.
This dilutes the overwhelming sourness of the aged beer, and of course adds
complexity.
Some sources draw a distinction between the East and West Flanders versions of
this beer type, the West Flanders variant generally the sharper tasting. But to me, the
differences seem less important than the similarities. Once such beers were plentiful
in Flanders; today only a few remain. In such a situation where the number of
producers is greatly reduced, the big picture gets distorted, and the idiosyncrasies of
those that remain get magnified beyond their importance as far as the original style is
concerned.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.061 (14.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.4 to 6.2%
Color: Gold
RECIPE
Major Blankety-Blank India Wit Ale
Bitterness: 48 IBU
Yeast: Belgian ale
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
This beer would benefit from a little dry hopping, maybe half an ounce of East Kent Goldings added to
the secondary or the serving cask.
All-Grain Recipe:
5.0 lb (2.3 kg)
50%British pale ale malt
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
40%malted wheat
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
10%medium crystal (40°L)
0.5 lb (227 g)
—rice hulls
Conventional infusion mash at 148° F (64.5° C).
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
44%pale dry malt extract
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
44%wheat extract syrup
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
12%medium crystal (40°L)
Hops & Spices:
1.5 oz (43 g)
60 minEast Kent Golding (5% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
20 minEast Kent Golding (5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
5 minEast Kent Golding (5% AA)
Peel of 1
5 minsweet orange (outer zest only)
Peel of 1/2
5 mingrapefruit (outer zest only)
1.0 oz (28 g)
5 mincoriander, crushed,
Gravity is modest at 1.045 to 1.050 (11 to 12 °P), although stronger versions are
brewed. Color should be a rich, reddish brown. Hopping is light, as with most types of
sour beers, with no detectable hop aroma. The palate should be dry, with a very soft
chocolatey richness balanced against the acidity.
Because of its simple malt/hop profile and bright acidity, these beers make great
bases for fruit beers, with cherries and raspberries preferred.
Brewing is straightforward; a simple infusion mash is adequate. Relatively low
mash temperatures should be used, as this promotes the kind of enzymatic activity that
creates a highly fermentable wort, which in turn creates a crisp, dryish beer. This is a
good beer to brew from extract, with augmentation from some crystal malt or cooked
sugar. This beer was often brewed from pale or Vienna malt only, and then colored
with cooked sugar syrup. This gives sufficient color and a creamy caramel flavor,
without a lot of toasted brown flavors to interfere with the vinous character of the
style. Instructions for making cooked sugar are on p. 198. It’s easy to do.
A normal top-fermenting yeast is used, and I think it makes sense to use a Belgian
one. Temperatures on the coolish side (57 to 67° F or 14 to 19° C) will keep the beer
from developing too much spiciness that might interfere with the fruitiness from the
wild yeast.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.095 (22.5° P)
Alcohol/vol: 9-10.2%
Color: Deep gold
Bitterness: 41 IBU
Yeast: Belgian ale
Maturation: 4-8 months
Maple syrup would add an interesting twist. This is by no means all that can be done with (or to) the wit
style. If you want something really extreme, take that wit wine recipe and make an ice beer out of it!
All-Grain Recipe:
3.0 lb (1.4 kg) 19%
Pilsener malt
4.0 lb (1.8 kg) 25%
Vienna or pale ale malt
7.0 lb (3.2 kg) 47%
malted wheat
0.5 lb (227 g) —
rice hulls
RECIPE
Wyse Foole Wit Wine
kg)
2.0 lb (0.9012%
jaggery (Indian palm sugar) or other partially refined sugar such as piloncillo,
demerara or turbinado.
Standard infusion mash at 148° F (64.5° C)
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
5.0 lb (2.3 kg) 44%
wheat malt syrup
3.5 lb (1.6 kg) 30%
pale dry malt extract
1.0 lb (0.459%
kg)
pale crystal malt
0.5 lb (227 g) —
rice hulls
2.0 lb (0.90 g) 17%
jaggery (Indian palm sugar) or other partially refined sugar
Hops & Spices:
1.5 oz (43 g)
60 min Styrian Golding (5.5% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
20 min Saaz (3% AA)
3.0 oz (85 g)
5 minSaaz (3% AA)
6-10
5 minkumquats, whole
2.0 oz (57 g)
5 mincoriander, crushed
0.5 tsp (2 g)
5 mingrains of paradise, crushed
So this leaves only one detail: how to get it to turn
sour. I have had good results from the liquid mixed
lambic cultures, added after primary fermentation is
complete. These critters are rather slow in the chow line,
so expect to wait a few months before you get much effect
from them. I would let them have at it for three months,
then have a taste.
As mentioned before, oak vessels are traditional. And
at Rodenbach, at least, they are scraped to expose fresh
wood between every brew. In addition to being a good
home for critters, especially acetobacteria, oak eventually
imparts a soft vanilla character from the metamorphosis of
lignins in the wood into vanillin.
Wood in the homebrewery can be difficult to manage, but there are some
shortcuts. Fortunately, it isn’t absolutely essential to get you into the ballpark with this
style of beer.
If you want to dive into wood, the most manageable solution is to use small oak
cubes manufactured for the wine industry by a company called StaVin
. They produce French, Hungarian, and American oak cubes, about
3/8” (1 cm) on a side. These are intended to refresh tired wine barrels, but will suit our
purposes perfectly. They come in several degrees of toastiness, and are pre-sanitized
in foil packs. A small handful will suffice. American oak will be far too pungent for
beer use, except for massive and very long-aged brews.
On the other hand, you can go to extremes. I know an amazingly dedicated
homebrewer who keeps a 50-gallon barrel of the stuff going, withdrawing some when
he has fresh beer to add, in much the same manner as a sherry solera. This is beyond
the reach of most of us individually, but it’s a rocking good idea for a club (see p.
280).
If you choose to use this as a base for fruit beer, ferment through the primary,
then rack into a secondary onto plenty of fruit, at least a pound per gallon of cherries,
half that for raspberries. You could easily double those quantities and not have too
much. I like to use fruit that has been frozen, as this lightens the microbial load a bit,
but more importantly breaks down the cell walls to make sugars more accessible to
the yeast. I also prefer cherries with pits, as they add a certain almond/kirsch
complexity. Sour pie cherries are generally better than the eating type (such as Bing)
for intensity of flavor.
My own method is to do the secondary in a glass carboy, filling it with beer and
fruit up to just below where the jug necks into the narrowest part. I find this reduces
the surface exposed to air, and thereby reduces the likelihood of mold developing, but
still leaves enough headroom to prevent a piece of fruit from blocking the stopper
hole, which can develop enough pressure to explode the carboy (it has happened!).
Just as a precaution, don’t fit the stopper too tightly into the carboy. Let the beer sit on
the fruit for one to four months, rack into a carboy, and allow it to settle clear before
bottling or kegging.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.057 (13.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.3 to 6.2%
Color: Ruby amber
Bitterness: 31 IBU
Yeast: Belgian Flanders ale, plus mixed lambic culture, added after primary.
Maturation: 6 to 18 months
When primary is finished, rack into the secondary and add a package of mixed Lambic culture.
All-Grain Recipe:
RECIPE
This Old Barrel Flanders Sour Brown Ale
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)28%
Pilsener malt
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)57%
Munich malt
0.75 lb (340 g)8%
aromatic/melanoidin malt (around 20 °L)
0.25 lb (112 g)2%
dark crystal
2.0 oz (57 g)1%
black malt—preferably European, de-bittered
0.5 lb (227 g)4%
unrefined brown sugar, such as piloncillo, demerara, etc.
Mash 1.5 hrs at 145° F (63° C), then mash out and sparge normally.
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
5.5 lb (2.5 kg)4%
amber dry malt extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 4%
dark crystal
2.0 oz (57 g)4%
Carafa II (German roast malt)
0.5 lb (227 g)4%
unrefined brown sugar, such as piloncillo, demerara, etc.
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)90 min Northern Brewer (7% AA)
SOUR BROWN BEER OBSCURITIES
Brune d’Aarschot Similar in style to Jack-Op, but a little lighter at 1.045 (11 °P).
The recipe is reported to be 50 percent pale malt; 30 percent aromatic malt; and 20
percent wheat. It was lightly hopped. Huyghe, in Melle, still produces one.
Jack-Op A brown, half-sour beer, known especially as a student favorite during its
heyday, 1910 to 1925. Belle Vue brews a version that weighs in at 1.050 (12 °P).
Zottegem An amber to brown beer made from pale and caramelized malts, using an
infusion mash, and brewed as an “entire” beer of 1.060 (14.5 °P) gravity. Top
fermentation was used, and the beer reportedly had some serious acidity in the old
days, due to lactic acid fermentation in the casks and vats. It was generally sold as a
draft beer, but more recently bottle-conditioned.
Maastrichts Oud From the Limburg province of the Netherlands, one would expect
this to share traits with Belgian brews. I can find nothing about it but these labels.
LAMBIC
Well, here we’ve come to the holy grail of geekdom,
the very core of radical brewing. With a strange mashing
procedure, years-long wild fermentation, stale hops,
blending,andmanyotherunusualandarchaic
techniques, lambic is one of the most fascinating beers in
the universe, as well as a challenge to brew. As a subject,
it richly deserves far more space than I’m going to be
able to devote to it.
The basic form of lambic is a pale sour beer between
1.050 to 1.065 (12.5 to 15.5 °P) currently; one hundred and fifty years ago it was as
high as 1.084 (20 °P), but more commonly 1.060 (14.5 °P). The mash is made from a
blend that is usually 60 to 70 percent malted barley and 30 to 40 percent unmalted red
winter wheat. In times past, the mashing procedure was typical of many other Belgian
beers of old, and featured the removal and boiling of the enzyme-laden turbid wort,
which had the effect of producing a wort with a high percentage of dextrins or
unfermentable sugars important as food for the pediococcus that will get to work later
on and produce lactic acid. These old processes were designed to work with old-
fashioned malts, in this case very steely and poorly modified ones. Romantic as they
are, they’re not necessarily the best tools for the job today.
Lambic Sub Styles
LambicThe basic style, served straight after aging, or blended to make gueuze or faro.
Lambic
JongeYoung lambic, also known as “fox.”
GueuzeA blend of young and old lambics, which are bottled and aged further.
FaroTypically a blend of lambic and mars, sweetened with sugar and colored with dark caramel sugar. Sometimes
brewed entire rather than using a blend. Hugely popular a hundred years ago. Gravity is around 1.040 (9.5
°P).
Mars*Weak beer made from the last runnings of a lambic mashing.
*Not to be confused with bière de Mars, an amber springtime seasonal specialty, brewed from spring barley mainly by French breweries.
Modern lambic mashing practice follows a more familiar decoction and/or
stepped infusion schedule. Mash is struck with hot water at 144° F (62° C), bringing
the goods up to 115 to 120° F (16 to 19° C) for a ten-minute rest. Boiling water is
underlet, raising the temperature to 136° F (58° C). Immediately 20 percent of the
mash is removed and given a short boil, then added back to the main mash, raising its
temperature to 149° F (65° C), adjusted with boiling water if needed. Another 20
percent decoction is removed, boiled, and added back, bringing the next rest to 162° F
(73° C). After a short rest, a final infusion of boiling water is added, bringing the
goods up to mash-out temperature of 170° F (76.5° C). This is allowed to settle a few
minutes before runoff is begun. By the end of all this activity, the water to grain ratio
may be as high as 4.5 quarts of water per pound of grain, double that of a normal
mash.
An alternate technique is to perform a stepped infusion mash, with fifteen-minute
rests at 95° F (35° C), 113° F (45° C), 131° F (55° C), and 149° F (65° C), then mash-out
at 162 to 164° F (72 to 73.5° C). The entire mash is pumped into the kettle and boiled
for a short time, then added back to the lauter tun to settle before being run off.
Very hot sparge water—around 200° F (93.5° C)— is used, as this will remove
the maximum amount of sugars, and more importantly starches, from the grains. Since
the mash is so dilute, a relatively small volume needs to be run through the goods
during the sparge.
The boil may last five to six hours; modern practice sometimes gets this down to
less than four. The hop rate is high, at 3.5 to 4 ounces per 5 gallons, and was about a
third higher in the 1800s. The hops used to come from the Poperinghe hop fields in
Belgium, and had a very low alpha content (2 to 3 percent AA). In addition, hops aged
three years were used, and the brewers wanted no bitterness, just the preservative
present in the cones. It is important to note that aged hops often display obnoxious
cheesy or spoiled butter aromas, and it takes a long boil to expel them from the wort.
“The intoxication of the faro drinker only shows itself at first by
an increase in noise which is only deafening, and finally by a
silent deterioration of the mind.”
— Gerard de Nerval, c. 1842
The cooling process is part of beer legend. The hot wort is pumped upstairs to
coolships under the eaves, and doors are opened, allowing the local microflora to waft
in. Because of the increasingly suburban character of the neighborhood—cherry
orchards replaced by shopping centers—brewers are preserving the structures of their
brewery buildings in such a way as to make use of its magic dust as a fermentation
starter. And fortunately, a lot of the tiny creatures live in the wood of the barrels used
as fermenters. On a parallel track, much research has been done to try to tease apart
the complex ecology of lambic in case it becomes necessary to augment nature with a
little pure culture here and there. This is good news for us, as lambic organisms are
available as single or mixed cultures that are quite easy to use.
Blending is a critical aspect of the lambic tradition. The general gist is that hard,
sour, complex, expensive beers get mixed with softer, fresher, mellower, less
expensive beers, resulting in a drinkable, affordable beer combining the best qualities
of both. Oddly, the most famous lambic sub-style, gueuze, was invented only as
recently as 1860 or so, although with beers occasionally turning out so sour they’re
only good for polishing copper, it’s hard to imagine that nobody thought of blending
them with a younger beer before—but such is beer mythology.
Faro was at one time the most popular forms of lambic. The ‘pure sucre candi’ refers to
caramel syrup, and was the only coloring material in the brew.
Since lambic depends on the set of conditions that existed in centuries past on the
outskirts of Brussels, it is impossible for us to brew a completely accurate copy in our
own breweries. However, the available commercial products are quite good, and if
you are of a microbiological bent, lambic offers challenges and rewards like no other
beer.
In commercial breweries, fermentation takes place in wooden barrels similar to
wine casks. The ale yeast goes first, as many of the other microbes work very slowly.
At home, generally ale yeast is pitched, and a conventional fermentation completed
before the wild stuff is added. It is possible to nurture the many strains of
microorganisms individually—if you have access to some pretty sophisticated
equipment and knowledge. For most of us, pitching a conventional belgian ale yeast,
and then adding a packet of a commercially-prepared mixed lambic culture at the end
of the primary fermentation gives pretty good results. Sometimes good results can be
achieved by transferring some sludge from one successful beer into the next batch or
even using the dregs of a bottle as a starter for the wild things.
Lambic Microflora Oversimplified
Saccharomyces cerevisiae
Top-fermenting yeast consumes sugars, produces alcohol + CO
2
Enteric bacteria
E. coli and others
Feeds on glucose; produces fruity to fecal “outhouse” aromas (nice in small doses)
Kloeckera apiculata
Ferments glucose; winey and cidery flavors
Brettanomyces species
Wild yeast that produces the characteristic “horsey” aroma
Pediococcus species
(also lactobacillus)
Bacteria that metabolizes dextrins and produces lactic acid and aroma
Oxidative yeasts
Candida, Pichia, and others
Film-forming yeasts; adds some fruity esters, esp. ethyl acetate
I am the Slijm—Traditional Lambic Production, P. Boulin, approx 1880:
The goods being in the tun, one underlets a certain quantity of water,
between 114° F (40° C) and 122° F (50° C) and then of almost boiling water
until the tun is full, then one highly brews. When the mixture is quite
homogeneous [at 117° F (45° C)], one covers surface with the mash tub with a
light layer of wheat and then at once plunges into the mash large baskets of
wicker as high as the mash tun and 60 to 70 cm diameter. With the assistance of
copper scoops, one withdraws all the liquid that compression makes flow to the
interior of the baskets.
When all the liquid which it is possible to extract is removed, one drains the
false bottoms and the whole is poured in the kettle.
In Brussels brewing terms, this wort having undergone the first boiling is
called the slijm. After a second mashing [with hot water], the wort is again run
off and mixed with the slijm. The slijm is poured on the goods and stirred again
gently, after which the mash tub is left to rest half an hour and tapped from the
bottom of the tun, slowly and with precaution, to make sure the wort runs clear.
When, despite all this care, the first part of the runoff is not sufficiently clear, it
is rejected into the tank to be filtered again.
The purpose of the boiling undergone by the first two runnings is to achieve
saccharification of the starch that the liquid contains, then to achieve
clarification by coagulating the dissolved albuminous matter. As soon as boiling
approaches, a multitude of small flakes are formed and the liquid, formerly
turbid and milky, becomes transparent by the dissolution of the starch and the
precipitation of albumin.
With the clarification of the slijm finished, one does two new mashings with
hot water, performed in the same way but more quickly. Wort from this mashing
it is used to prepare mars. When all mashings are mixed, faro is obtained; for
the lambic, one uses only the slijm.
As a fermenting vessel, glass works fine, although you may feel you are more
authentic if you toss in a few cubes of French or Hungarian oak (see
. It will
take at least a year before the beer really starts to taste like lambic. Two years and it’s
ready for bottling, although this was considered “young” lambic in the past, although
it tastes pretty good at that point. After another year or two it will develop that
stinging acidity and ethereal aroma that only an old lambic has. With this kind of
extended aging, the yeast will be pretty much shot. If you plan on bottling, adding
some fresh yeast with the priming sugar will assure proper carbonation (which should
be high).
Clearly, this is an intense beer style, and brewing it can be daunting. But lighter
and quicker versions were enjoyed as everyday beers in the past, so there’s nothing
that says you have to make the heavy-duty stuff all the time. This recipe will get you
started on the long and twisted road to Lambicville.
WINE BARREL LAMBICS
Used wine barrels make pretty good aging vessels for
lambic-style beers. They come on the market when they get
to the point where they’re not adding anything to the wine.
This toned-down taste is exactly what we want, since a
fresh barrel can be gawdawful rough on a beer. Get one
directly from a winery if you can so you can find out what
kind of wine was in it. Heavier reds might be best for such
intense fruit beers as raspberry, while lighter reds might be
suitable for cherries or for a non-fruit beer such as a
Flemish sour brown. Whites might go for peaches or for
straight lambics. Wine barrels come in different sizes, but
50 gallons is the most common size. Smaller barrels have a higher surface area to
volume ratio, which means the potential for too much wood and too much evaporative
loss.
A homebrewer in northern Wisconsin maintains two barrels, one for lambics and
one for sour browns. He uses them in solera fashion, in which a quantity of beer is
periodically removed to make way for a new brew. The whole barrel is never emptied,
avoiding the really difficult problem of how to deal with an empty barrel. This also
means the beer is always a blend of old and new, a desirable characteristic of many
antique beers. Such a barrel can be maintained as a “club beer,” which can be bottled
or kegged for group use, or bottled a few gallons at a time and dispersed. Brewers can
contribute on a rotating basis, or get together periodically for group brews.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.058 (14 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 6 to 7%
Color: Pale straw
RECIPE
Lambic
Bitterness: 10 IBU (or less)
Yeast: Belgian ale for primary, then mixed lambic culture
Maturation: 6 months to 2 years
Wait until the primary fermentation has finished, then rack into secondary, and pitch a package of mixed
lambic starter, sit back, and and be patient. It will take several months before the effects will be
noticeable, and it may take a year or two for the flavors to develop to a decent level.
All-Grain Traditional Adjunct-Mash Recipe:
For the adjunct mash:
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)30%
unmalted wheat
2.0 lb (0.9020%
kg)
U.S. six-row malt
kg)
1.0 lb (0.4510%
oatmeal
For the malt mash:
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)30%
two-row Pils malt
1.0 lb (0.4510%
kg)
Munich malt
kg)
1.0 lb (0.45—
rice hulls (may be stirred in at end of mash)
Create two separate mashes and follow the schedule as outlined in the witbier text, p 205.
Hops:
4 oz (113 g)5 hrsOld low alpha acid hops (3 years is ideal). Lesser quantities (1 to 2 oz) should
be used for fruit beers.
Brune Gueuze?
I’ve only seen it mentioned on this label.
Chapter 16
R
OLLING
Y
OUR
O
WN
GOING ORGANIC
Concerns about the healthfulness of what we put into our mouths, as well as
issues such as sustainability, pollution, and genetic diversity, are increasingly on
people’s minds—brewers and consumers alike. And while brewing organic ale might
not be the most obvious place to start, this “living right” thing is the kind of program
that, once you start, you have to make an effort to make changes all around and not
leave some big, uncool thing hanging out there, whether it’s a giant SUV or just a
batch of beer.
“Make beer, not war.”
— Kate Gaiser, Homebrew Goddess
Not so long ago the selection of organic ingredients was so pitiful that you really
did have to raise your own if you wanted to have anything beyond the basics. Today
the situation is much different. With green living becoming very popular in Europe,
growers in Germany are producing a pretty decent variety of malt and hop types.
There have been organic hops from New Zealand for years now, and there are also
limited varieties of hops and malt coming from English and U.S. producers. Selection,
at least as far as some of the more obscure specialty grains, is a little restrictive, but
it’s a pretty simple deal to toast or roast your own (see p. 224).
Briess Malting in Chilton, Wisconsin offers a range of organic liquid malt
extracts, plus its DME (diastatic) extract in a spray-dried form. There are even
Internet-based homebrew shops specializing in organic ingredients.
Because the amount of hop matter extracted into the beer is quite small (2 percent
of the weight of the hops; 20 to 90 ppm in the finished beer) compared to the other
ingredients, you may choose to live dangerously and add conventionally grown hops
to an otherwise organic beer. German growers go to extreme measures—warning
sirens for peronospora, for example—to avoid chemically treating their hop plants, so
this might be something to keep in mind in your search for the most healthful
ingredients.
Growing your own hops is an even better possibility, as they seem to be much
less disease-prone when grown in widely scattered gardens rather than acre-upon-acre
in a commercial agricultural setting. See p. 226 for details.
Whether your yeast is organic or not shouldn’t be an issue, as yeast is more a
process than an ingredient. At any rate, nobody sells a specifically “organic” yeast.
Since there’s more water in your beer than any other ingredient, it bears some
consideration. Sound brewing practices would guide you to use clean, healthful water,
stripped of any chlorine, heavy metals, or toxic organics. A good drinking water filter
will accomplish this for you, and there’s no need to go to any further lengths for
organic homebrew. I should note here that while distilled water may seem like a good
choice, it actually lacks the minerals necessary for proper brewing chemistry for most
beer types. Spring water is okay, but you should get a mineral analysis. See the
section on water chemistry, p. 54.
MALTING YOUR OWN BARLEY
I’m going to be perfectly honest and tell you I have not done this. For most of us,
the huge variety of available malt types fills just about any conceivable grain bill.
Considering the time, equipment, and expertise involved in malting grain, it’s not
something to be taken up on a lark. You’ve got to really want to do it.
That said, it is possible to produce perfectly fine malt at home. Remember, in the
old days they just threw a sack of barley in the creek, waited for it to sprout, and dried
it over anything that would burn, so it isn’t exactly astrophysics. The accompanying
sidebar outlines the process.
The Stages of Malting
SteepingThe grain is soaked in dechlorinated water for between sixty and eighty hours at temperatures around 60° F
(15.5° C), never higher than 70° F (21° C). A change of water twice a day is made to keep things clean and to
ensure that plenty of oxygen is available for the seeds to germinate. The quantity of water needed is about a
gallon per pound. Calcium hydroxide (lime) is sometimes added to the steep water to counteract mold and to
help leach bitter, astringent materials from the husk (0.1 to 0.2 grams per liter). Hydrogen peroxide is
sometimes used for this purpose, and this has the benefit of adding free oxygen.
Couching
This is the seven-day period during which sprouting occurs. Since this process generates heat, careful
management of the thickness of the pile of grain is needed to keep things at the desired 59 to 65° F (15 to
18.5° C), although malt destined for dark beer may be germinated a little higher, up to 77° F (25° C). Warmer
temperatures result in faster malting, which results in poorer quality malt, more noticeable in the palate of
pale beers. It is important to aerate the grain during germination, to introduce oxygen and to remove carbon
dioxide generated by the sprouting plants. Proper modification is indicated by an acrospire (shoot) equal in
length to the kernel, which grows underneath the protective husk.
Kilning
This drying process reduces moisture levels in the malt from 45 percent to below 5 percent. This stops the
germination process and stabilizes the enzymes and other components of the malt, allowing it to be stored for
future use. In general, a two- or more stage kilning is used: first, a low-temperature one to dry out the grains,
which lasts about forty-eight hours, during which time the malt must not get above 112° F (44 5° C), or else
enzymes may be destroyed. This is followed by one or more high-temperature steps to “cure” the malt, first at
176° F (80° C) for five hours (pale malt); darker malts are cured five hours at 230° F (110° C). Darker colors
are reached by further kilning at higher temperatures, but above this, enzymes are destroyed, limiting the
malt’s use to specialty purposes.
Mellowing This a period of a couple of weeks or more after kilning during which the malt just sits, allowing some of the
harsher compounds developed during kilning to waft away, especially important with darker malts.
Obtaining the proper grade of barley may be the most difficult part of home
malting. Generally, malting grade is the highest quality available, as the criteria is a
high count of live, viable seeds. But it is normally sold in railcar-sized lots, as there’s
not a lot of call for small amounts. Seed barley or other grains should be avoided
because it often is treated with fungicides or other chemicals to protect it when it’s in
the earth, and these are not such nice things to have in a beer.
Of course, if you have a couple of acres to spare and live in the proper sort of
climate, you can grow your own. It’s admirable, of course, but this is only for the
deeply committed.
Wheat, oats, rye, and other grains may also be malted, and each has a time
schedule different from barley, generally shorter. If you’re planning on malting
alternative grains, you would be well advised to research the specifics.
ROASTING YOUR OWN
These days, the wide variety of available commercial malt serves the homebrewer
fairly well. But it can be interesting and rewarding to do a little home-roasting, and
Drum Malt Roaster, 1877
This method of kilning black malt was patented in 1817 by Daniel Wheeler. Simpler
equipment can be used at home.
Kilning malt involves complex chemistry collectively known as the Maillard
reaction, which is covered elsewhere (p. 42). Maillard chemistry is the source of
nearly all malt flavor and aroma. Each different combination of time, temperature,
you can come up with some colors and flavors not available any other way. Amber
rye, brown wheat, and toasted oats are all products you can make—but not buy.
moisture, and raw ingredients creates a different set of flavors, which means there’s
tremendous room for exploration.
It couldn’t be easier. A cookie sheet or a cake pan and a standard oven are all
that’s needed, although an accurate thermometer will be helpful if you want to be able
to calibrate your oven and thereby repeat your successes. If your oven has convection
capability, this will make a more evenly kilned product in a shorter time. Spread the
grain out thinly, not more than an inch deep.
The temperature range for kilning is between 200 and 400° F (93 and 204° C),
and although it may seem obvious, higher temperatures are generally used for darker
malts. Time ranges from twenty minutes to a little over an hour. We’re normally
working with malted barley, but any grain can be roasted. This brings out the unique
character of each kind of grain, sometimes dramatically.
Here are a few hints and tips on malt toasting at home:
Use whole, uncrushed grain, as it roasts more evenly.
Kilned grain will brew darker than it looks. A golden-looking kernel will brew a
pretty toasty-tasting beer, and is suitable for brown ales. A copper-colored grain
tastes sharply roasty. Sometimes it’s best to just go by the aroma, and take the
grain out of the oven as soon as it smells right.
Darker roasts should be done at a higher temperature; lighter roasts at lower ones.
Smaller or thinner grains will develop color more quickly than fatter ones, and
may require more frequent turning.
Malts kilned moist will taste richer and, well, maltier than those roasted dry,
which lean toward sharper, dryer flavors. A two-hour soak will be enough to
make the difference.
Freshly kilned malts need a couple of weeks to mellow out. If you brew with
them right away, you’ll get harsh, burnt aromas along with the good stuff. This is
not like coffee.
There is a zone of harshness around 200 to 300° SRM, which coincides with
copper-to-chocolate malts. At even darker roasts, the roughness seems to soften
into a cocoa roastiness. There’s a place for this very sharp roastiness, but you
need to use it in a way that doesn’t overpower everything else in the beer.
It is pretty much impossible to produce black malt without special equipment, and
you can end up with something that, if not actually on fire, tastes as if it were.
Most maltsters also take extra steps to “debitterize” their darkest malts, further
knocking the rough edges off of them.
Experiment with other grains for unique flavors; everything can be toasted. Many
adjuncts are bland and lifeless without a little kilning. Think of the difference
between a bowl of oatmeal and cookies made from the same stuff. It’s a magical
transformation, and oh, that cookie flavor is delightful in a brown ale or porter.
Toasting corn gives you a nice tortilla chip flavor, a suitable accent for a chile ale
(see p. 184). Malted wheat can be turned into crystal malt (see sidebar), and this
creates different flavors than barley malt crystal.
Time and Temperatures for Several Malt Types
Minutes
° F(° C)
Color (°L)
Flavor
20
250(121)
Pale Gold (10)
Nutty; not toasty
25
300(149)
Gold (20)
Malty, caramelly, rich; not toasty
30
350(177)
Amber (35)
Nutty, malty; lightly toasty
40
375(191)
Deep Amber (65)
Nutty, toffee-like; crisp toastiness
30
400(204)
Copper (100)
Strong toasted flavor; some nutlike notes
40
400(204)
Deep Copper (125)
Roasted, not toasted; like porter or coffee
50
400(204)
Brown (175)
Strong roasted flavor
Both brown and amber malts may be approximated in the homebrewery. You can
simply roast the grains in the kitchen oven, or over wood on a barbecue. For amber,
first wet the malt by soaking for fifteen minutes or so, then toast at 300° F (149° C)
for about half an hour. You are looking for a light orange color and a nutty, toasty
taste. Brown malt can be made by roasting dry at 350° F (177° C) for one-and-a-half
to two hours. You want a medium ruby-brown color with a sharp, roasty taste. It
should not be anywhere near as dark as chocolate malt. Always keep in mind that malt
brews darker than it looks. And don’t forget to let it mellow for a couple of weeks.
GROWING HOPS
Hops do well in the northern United States, and make a lovely—if scary—
ornamental plant as well as a homegrown brewing ingredient. Because they require a
certain day-length to trigger the production of cones, cultivation is restricted to
between the thirtieth and fiftieth parallels. Luckily, this includes the continental
United States, except for southern Texas and the peninsula of Florida. Because heat
and humidity seem to encourage pests and disease, the commercial hop crop has
largely been in the North— New York and Wisconsin in earlier times, now primarily
in Washington and Oregon. In large-scale cultivation they’re susceptible to a number
of pests, but this seems to be less of a problem for the individual grower, whose little
garden presents a less tempting target.
To grow hops, one obtains rhizomes, which are tuberous, stubby, root-like things.
They are planted about four feet apart (allow a couple of extra space between different
varieties) in the spring. Rhizomes should be planted so the bud end is one inch below
the soil surface. Light-textured rich soil with good drainage is ideal, which is similar
to what tomatoes like. As with many plants, the old maxim of “a five-dollar hole for a
one-dollar plant” applies, and the surrounding soil can be enriched with composted
manure or similar fertilizer. It’s a good idea to apply a slow-release garden fertilizer
every spring. Mulching is recommended as well.
Homemade Crystal Malt
Get 2 pounds of whole, uncrushed pale malt and soak it for twenty-four hours in
dechlorinated tap water. The grain will absorb water and become quite soft. Place it in
a colander and drain it well, then put it in a cake pan, about 2 inches deep. Put this
into a low oven at 160° F (71° C), which you should confirm using a thermometer of
known accuracy. Let it stew like this for two to three hours, during which time the
enzymes in the malt will convert the malt starches into sugars.
At the end of this time, take half the malt and remove it to another cake pan or cookie
sheet, so it’s an inch thick or less. Crank up the oven to 200 to 220° F (93 to 104° C),
and put the pan of malt back in. Turn every half-hour or so until the malt is dry and
crispy when bit through. This will take some time. At this point, you can stop the
process and use it as a pale crystal, or crank up the heat to 300° F (149° C) and allow
it to kiln until it’s anywhere from pale gold to deep amber. Taste as you go, and be
aware that the malt will always taste darker than it looks, and brews darker still. So,
err on the pale side.
And remember that each different combination of time, temperature, and moisture
will produce a different flavor, even if the resulting grains are the same color. Hotter,
drier roasting tends to produce harsher, roastier flavors. If you want more rounded,
caramelly flavors, you might raise the heat before the grain is completely dry, roast to
the desired color, then lower the heat until it’s nice and dry.
Once it’s done roasting, pull it out of the oven and let it cool off, turning a time or
two. The malt should be allowed to mellow for a week or two to allow the harsher
components of the roasting process to waft away.
This process is most commonly used on barley malt, but you can also make crystal
from malted wheat, rye, oats, or any other malted grain.
Soil type and climate do have an effect
on varietal character, but they generally do
come somewhat true regardless of where
they’ve been planted. Many varieties of
rhizomes are available. Often homebrew
shops will pre-order them when they’re
available in April or May, so check with your
local retailer.
The traditional saying about hop growth
is, “First year, creep; second year, leap.” So it
will take a little time, but that second year, oh
boy! One plant can yield 0.5 to 2 pounds of
dried cones. Since hops are a climbing plant,
a trellis or something vertical for them to
climb is mandatory unless you want them
sprawled all over your yard. Strings or wires will do. They will easily grow 20 feet or
more, and put out cones late August through September, depending on location. In
commercial harvesting, the bines are cut down and the cones are then stripped off
mechanically. You can just pluck off the cones, leaving the plant to build reserves
before it dies back after the weather gets cold.
As hops ripen, the cones dry out and get papery, while the small yellow-orange
lupulin glands swell and get sticky with resins. Pull off a cone and rub it briskly
between your palms and have a good sniff. If the cone releases sticky aromatic stuff
onto your hands, the hops are ready to harvest.
The cones can be used fresh, dried in a food dehydrator, or air-dried in a dry
shady spot. A convection oven set at a low (150° F or 65.5° C) temperature can work
as well. The hops are fully dried when the strig (the stick through the middle of the
cone) is brittle and snaps rather than bending.
Sheet Music Title, London Illustrated News, 1851
There has always been a sort of romantic quality about the hop.
Chapter 17
F
ORWARD
I
NTO THE
P
AST
T
he march of progress has
made the accountants giddy and turned
corporate brewers into respectable technocrats, but as homebrewers we know that beer
must have been better in earlier, simpler days. Of course there was always crappy beer
available, and in some cases—like America’s colonial past—the beer was often pretty
horrendous. One of the pleasures of homebrewing is the ability to strip away the
technological “improvements” that nearly extinguished interesting beer, and let the
past inspire us to brew with the daring and wisdom of people through the ages.
Often the old brewing books contain brewing sequences of bewildering
complexity. Frequently in books before 1750, it appears as if some of the authors
never brewed a drop themselves—sometimes boastful of the fact—and clearly
misunderstood what was happening with the process. Even in mid-nineteenth century
texts you find seemingly senseless techniques, often quite long and elaborate, for what
seemed to be quite ordinary beers.
“It is easy to sneer at our ancestors... but it is much more
profitable to try to discover why they, who were really not one
whit less sensible persons than our excellent selves, should have
been led to entertain views which strike us as absurd.”
— Thomas Henry Huxley, 1881
Some of these techniques may be the remnants of an earlier day when limited
technology dictated a certain way of brewing. Early ingredients also required specific
techniques. Decoction was developed both as a way to mash steely, undermodified
malt, and as a way to raise the temperature of a mash in a wooden vessel that couldn’t
be heated with fire. There also were some strange taxation systems, such as in
nineteenth-century Belgium, where different rates assessed on mash tuns for malted
and unmalted grains led to the present recipes for witbiers and lambics.
Weights and measures are another headache. Before things were reorganized
rationally in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, these were often a local thing
varying from place to place.
Unraveling these mysteries can be tough, especially in an archaic dialect of a
language you don’t know all that well. It might be worth the effort, but you have to
use your judgment as to whether the seemingly senseless procedures in some of these
old books will really affect the beer in any meaningful way. It is likely that some of
these arcane procedures are the best way the old-timers had to cope with limitations
on ingredients, equipment, energy sources, and other factors, but as a practical matter,
you just have to try to sort out what the end result would have been, and find a more
straightforward way to get there.
In general, English beers before 1850 were brewed by infusing and draining the
mash two or three times. In pre-industrial brewing, these different worts or gyles were
destined for separate beers of different strengths. Porter was the first industrial beer in
the world, and was the first beer to routinely combine the several different runnings
into a single brew, hence the term “entire” that was applied to it. Starting around
1800, you see reference to the “Scotch system” of brewing, whereby after the first
mash, water is sprinkled on top of the goods to rinse out the remaining sugars. Of
course we recognize this as the preferred system today.
The hydrometer was first documented in brewing by the groundbreaking work of
Richardson in 1777. Prior to that time, strength of beer had been entirely guesswork,
and brewers were quite shocked to find out how little fermentable extract was yielded
by the darker malts, particularly blown (torrefied) brown malt, then the very soul of
porter. This led to a complete turnaround in the formulation of porter and stout from
the less efficient brown and amber malts to a mix of pale and black, or patent malt.
We have more varieties of malt available to us than at any time in history. In most
times and places, brewers had to make do with just a few malts—often just one or
two. If you are striving for authenticity when you’re recreating old beers, try to avoid
the anachronistic use of colored malts. See the chart for a little malt history.
Of course legislation and taxation have always had a big impact on this highly
regulated product. The 1516 Purity law, the Reinheitsgebot of Bavaria, is the most
famous, but it’s important to know that it applied only to Bavaria—and not the whole
of Germany—until 1877, after Bavaria had been incorporated into the German union.
It also made an exception for wheat and other top-fermenting beers. For this reason
you will find an interesting tradition of “outlaw” beers in the north of Germany that
lingered well into the last century.
A Timeline of Malt History
Ancient Middle East
Air-dried and kilned malts, plus malts baked into cakes, which would have added caramelized
flavors and color.
Ancient to Medieval
Northern Europe
Some air-dried malt, but wood-kilned malt quite common. Straw—regarded as a premium fuel
for paler malts because of its less smoky taste—or peat were also used.
1516
Reinheitsgebot instituted in Bavaria.
1600s Europe
Smoke-free malt, dried in coal-or coke-fired kilns, is enthusiastically adopted almost
everywhere.
1817
Black malt patented and quickly adopted.
1842
Sugar and grain adjuncts allowed in British ales.
Approx. 1870
Crystal/caramel malt developed in Germany.
1877
Reinheitsgebot enforced in greater Germany.
England, too, had purity laws. A tax was placed on malt in 1697, and this law also
forbade the use of wheat, which remained untaxed. In the early eighteenth century,
brewers were adding ingredients that not only diluted the flavor of malt or substituted
for the bitterness of hops, but were actually dangerous drugs—opium, and more
commonly cocculus Indicus, for example— that were added to increase the
intoxicating power of the brews. Something had to be done, and in 1710 a law was
passed forbidding the use of bittering agents other than hops. As these restrictions
applied only to commercial brewers, a quaint tradition of spiced beers lingered on in
the country house breweries of large estates up until about 1900, when house-brewing
largely ceased.
Brewing Measures and Weights
AamCask size:
Germany
1 55 liters
Netherlands
155.2 liters
AmberOld British measure of 4 bushels; 140 liters
AnkareScandinavian barrel measure:
Swedish
39.256 liters
Danish (ankre)
38.645 liters
Norwegian
38.51 liters
AnkerA highly variable barrel measure:
Dutch
466 liters
English
37.85 liters; 10 U.S. gallons
Scottish
34 liters; 20 Scots pints
Artaba
Ancient Persian measure, 17.44 U.S. gallons; 66 liters
Barrel, British
Beer cask holding 31.5 British gallons; 43.2 U.S. gallons; 163.53 liters
Barrel, Dutch
(1715) 80 liters; 21.25 gallons
Barrel, U.S.
31 U.S. gallons; 117.35 liters (derived from old British “ale” barrel)
Bole, Boll
Scottish dry volume measure equivalent to four U.S. (originally Winchester) bushels, 38.432 U.S.
gallons, or approximately 145 liters; 136 pounds of malt. Morrice (London, 1819) mentions a Welsh
bole as equaling 6 British bushels, or 240 pounds of malt.
Brente
A Swiss measure of 50 liters (half hectoliter); 13.25 gallons
Brewer’s lbs/bbl
British term for original gravity. One BP/bbl = 1.0028 OG
Bushel
Dry measure of varying capacity:
British (modern): 8 British gallons; 9.608 U.S. gallons; 36.37 liters British (in 1496): 6.68 U.S.
gallons; 25.29 liters U.S.: 8 U.S. gallons; 30.28 liters
For malt: British 40 pounds; 18.14 kilograms; U.S. 34 pounds; 15.42 kilograms
For barley: British 50 pounds; 22.68 kilograms; U.S. 48 pounds; 21.8 kilograms
U.S. grain: wheat 60 pounds; 27.22 kilograms; oats 32 pounds; 14.52 kilograms rye 56 pounds; 25.4
kilograms
Butt
British cask or vat of 126 U.S. gallons; 477 liters; usually placed vertically rather than horizontally
Chopine
Old French measure of about half a liter; 16.9 fluid ounces
Choppin
Scottish term, equal to 1.8 U.S. pints; 852 milliters
Collothun
Ancient Persian liquid measure, equal to 8.25 liters or 2.18 U.S. gallons or 1/8 artaba.
CWT
Abbreviation for hundredweight 112 pounds; 50.8 kilograms
Eimer
European measure (often used for barley) which varied widely:
Swiss
37.5 liters; 9.9 gallons
Viennese
56.58 liters; 15 gallons
Württemberg
293.92 liters; 77.6 gallons
Firkin
British quarter-barrel cask containing 10.8 U.S. gallons, 9 imperial gallons; 39 liters
Foudre/Fuder
Belgian liquid measure, equal to 30 hectoliters (300 liters); 792.52 U.S. gallons
Fuder
Large cask or liquid measure:
German
900 liters (9 hectoliters)
328 U.S. gallons
Prussia
824.42 liters
217.8 U.S. gallons
Württemburg
293.92 liters
77.6 U.S. gallons
Gallon,
In the U.S., standardized at 8 pounds; 3.63 kilograms of wheat as early as 1303. A U.S. gallon holds
dry or grain 4.24 pounds, 1.93 kilograms.
Gallon...
(Elizabethan Beer or Ale) Archaic British volume measure equal to 1.22 U.S. gallons; 4.621 liters.
Gallon, Imperial
British volume measure designed to hold exactly 10 pounds of water. Equal to 1.20095 U.S. gal lons;
4.55 liters.
Gallon, Scottish
4 Scots quarts, or 3.6 U.S. gallons; 13.63 liters.
Gallon, U.S.
3.7853 liters
Gill
British Imperial measure of 5 fluid ounces; 147.9 milliliters; in the U.S., 4 fluid ounces; 118.3
milliliters.
Hectoliter
Metric volume measurement of 100 liters or 26.417 U.S. gallons; as a dry measure for malt, 92 pounds;
41.73 kilograms.
Himpen
German dry measure similar to a bushel, roughly 8.5 U.S. gallons, holding 53 pounds; 24 kilo grams of
wheat or 30 pounds; 13.61 kilograms of malt. Also used for hops; by my estimation, 11 pounds of
whole hops tightly packed, or half that if loose.
Hogshead
A large oak cask. They have varied in size over the years from 54 to 140 gallons. Presently a hogshead
is equal to 63 U.S. gallons; 238.5 liters; 54 imperial gallons (UK).
Hundredweight
112 pounds; 50.8 kilograms
Kilderkin
British half-barrel cask holding 20.61 U.S. gallons; 78.02 liters; 18 imperial gallons
Leaguer
Dutch measure of 153 U.S. gallons; 579.2 liters
Livre
French term, equal to a pound avoirdupois; 454 grams
Mud
Dutch measure for grains, equal to 3.53 cubic feet, or 2.38 U.S. bushels.
Mutchkin
Scottish term, equal to 1 pint; 473 milliliters
Noggin
(British) 5 fluid ounces; 148 milliliters.
Ohm
Not the electrical unit, but another volume measure:
Alsace
50 liters/13.2 gallons
Baden
150 liters/39.6 gallons
Bavaria
128 liters/33.9 gallons
Germany
150 liters/39.6 gallons
Saar
144 liters/38 gallons
Switzerland
40 liters/10.6 gallons
OxhofdGerman barrel size of 206.106 liters; 54.5 U.S. gallons
Hamburg, Germany
226 liters; 59.7 US gallons
Russia
221.389 liters; 58.5 US gallons
Oxhoofd
Dutch barrel of 232.8 liters; 61.5 gallons. Also spelled “okshoofd.”
Pfd.
Abbreviation for Pfund, below.
Pfund
German word for pound. Since 1873, equal to 500 grams, or 1.104 pounds, but formerly varied from
province to province. Viennese Pfund equaled 560 grams; 1.2 pounds.
Pint
Imperial, 568.261 milliliters, 1.201 U.S. pints; U.S.: 473.176 milliliters, .8327 Imperial pints
Pin
British 1/8 barrel, 3.93 Imperial gallons; 5.4 U.S. gallons; 20.4 liters
Poensel
Belgian fut or cask of 230 liters; 60.8 gallons, used for Brune d’Aarschot
Pond
Dutch pound, equal to 500 grams; 1.3 pounds
Pony
U.S. quarter barrel, 7.75 gallons; 29.34 liters
Pot
Dutch term, equal to 1 liter
Pottle, Potell
(British) 3.3 Imperial pints; 3.96 U.S. pints; 1.87 liters (U.S. and UK before 1826); later standardized
to 4 imperial pints; 4.804 U.S. pints; 76.86 fluid ounces; 2.27 liters
Puncheon
British cask holding 72 U.S. gallons (beer/ale)
Quarter
British dry measure equal to 8 bushels, currently standardized to: malt, 336 pounds; barley, 448 pounds
Runlet
A somewhat variable British cask size, eventually standardized at 15 imperial gallons, 18.5 U.S.
gallons
Scheffel
German dry measure eventually standardized to 50 liters or 1.4189 bushels; roughly equivalent to
48.24 pounds; 21.88 kilograms of malt.
Bavaria
222.36 liters
Prussia
54.96 liters
Württemburg
177.22 liters
SchepelDutch dry measure standardized to 10 liters; originally 0.75 U.S. bushel, or 26 liters; holds 25.5
pounds of malt.
Seidel
An Austrian 3/4 pint vessel.
Septier, Sextier
A medieval volume measure. In Lorraine it equaled 130 to 150 pounds; 59 to 68 kilograms of malt. In
Strasbourg, 23.985 liters; 6.3 gallons; holds 26.9 pounds of malt.
Setier
French volume measure. Dry, 1.561 hectoliters; liquid, 0.465 liters. Swiss, 37.5 liters.
Sester
Anglo-Saxon measure originally of honey, based on the Roman sextarius, about a pint (tenth century),
then later twice that or as much as 2 U.S. gallons; 7.6 liters, depending on who you ask. Variably
applied to wine and ale, and generally growing: thirteenth century, 4 gallons (of wine); 1521, 14
gallons (of wine). As a dry measure it was also called a “seam,” and was more or less equivalent to a
quarter (see previous). The Scottish sester was equal to 3 gallons (of wine) in 1150; 12 gallons/51
pounds/23.1 kilograms of grain in 1450, and was equivalent to the “ald (old) boll”
Skåppe
Danish dry measure equal to 0.494 U.S. bushels; 18.8 pounds; 17.407 liters
Skep
Old British term for bushel; equivalent to modern British bushel
Skjeppe
Norwegian dry measure equal to 0.493 U.S. bushels, or 17.370 liters; 16.8 pounds; 7.6 kilograms
Thrydendale
English measure of a pint and a half
Tierce
Old English barrel size, equal to 1/3 butt, or 42 U.S. gallons, approximately 159 liters
Tønde
Danish barrel size, equal to 36.72 U.S. gallons, or 139 liters.
Tonneau
French ton, a weight measure equal to 979 kilograms or 1.070 U.S. tons; 1,284 pounds.
Tun
British vat, 252 U.S. gallons; 954 liters; 2 pipes or butts; 4 hogsheads.
Vat
Dutch cask size, 932 liters; 247 gallons; In Belgium, equal to 1 hectoliter.
Vedro
Russian measure of 12.39 liters; 3.3 U.S. gallons
Wine Gallon
British measure adopted in the U.S. as the standard gallon size (see above).
Wispel
German dry measure. In Braunschweig it equaled 24 Scheffel, or about 13 hectoliters; 36.9 bushels;
1,225 pounds of malt
Zentner/Centner
Metric unit of weight equal to 50 kilograms, or 110.231 pounds
Ztr.
Abbreviation for Zentner, above
Some Compound Terms Relating to Hops:
Pounds per British Barrel
1.85 oz/ 52 g per 5 gal/19 l
Pounds per U.S. Barrel
1.35 oz/38 g per 5 gal/19 l
Pounds per Hogshead
2.7 oz/77 g per 5 gal/19 l
Pfund (500 g) per Hectoliter
3.3 oz/95 g per 5 gal/19 l
After several disastrous barley harvests in the early part of the nineteenth century,
the laws were relaxed in 1847 to allow for the addition of sugar, and further in 1880,
permitting “any wholesome material” as a substitute for malt. This opened the
floodgates of cheap corn and rice grits and led to the thinner, less full-flavored beers
of modern times. It’s not exactly happy news, as it meant the brewery accountants
were getting the upper hand, but it is important to keep all this in your mind as you go
about recreating older styles.
Yeast is a big unknown. We know from genetic studies that today’s brewing
yeasts are direct descendents of the brewers’ yeasts of ages past, but as you know if
you’ve tried a few strains, there are plenty of differences. Figuring out which ones
were used at that particular time and place is next to impossible for the guys in the lab
coats. Lager yeasts, on the other hand, are all very closely related. And even though
there are slight variations in flavor emphasis from strain to strain, they’re not all over
the ballpark as is the ale tribe.
Most fermentations prior to 1900 were carried out with multiple strains, and so it
was a very big deal in the 1880s when Emil Christian Hansen isolated a single cell
culture and propagated it into a pitchable quantity. Wild or spontaneous fermentations
were widespread, especially in white ales or small beers that would be quickly
consumed, and where the refreshing qualities of some lactic sourness would be
welcome. When fermenting in wooden vessels, it is pretty much impossible to keep
the wild things away. Fortunately, a stable, if somewhat unpredictable, ecosystem can
usually be established in time. Various approaches can be employed to ensure
palatable beers, such as the blending used in lambic production, or limiting the use of
wild fermentations to weak beers that will be consumed before getting too sour. And
it doesn’t hurt to have a plan B in place, as with oversoured lambic, which makes a
fine polish for copper kettles.
HITTING THE BOOKS
Even though the recipes or descriptions in the old
books can be confusing or maddeningly incomplete, it
has never been easier to get your hands on the texts.
Several— including some very rare ones—have been
reprinted commercially; others have been scanned or
transcribed, and then placed online as academic or
personal projects.
And although there is still a wealth of junk
information on the Web, the number of high quality sites
is increasing, as is the depth of information available on list servers such as the
Historical Brewing Digest. If you’re searching for something in particular, don’t
forget to search the groups as well as the Web at large. People in other countries,
particularly in Scandinavia, are also very interested in this topic, and you can use
either Google’s “translate” feature, or take the text to one of the free Web-based
translators such as BabelFish.
Resources for Historical Research on Brewing
Libraries: public, university, and private
Used bookstores
Alibris and other Internet book search resources
Reprinted texts, Internet and for sale
Trading photocopies of out-of-copyright (100 years old +)
Society for Creative Anachronism and other recreationist groups
Historical brewing newsgroup:
Various hobbyist and academic Internet sites
If you’re going to be doing brewing research in a foreign language, it will be very
helpful to find a brewing lexicon in that language; a dictionary of chemical terms will
be easier to find (and cheaper) and should include most of the common brewing
terms.
There’s no need to stick strictly to brewing texts. There are old “receipt” books,
which offer up concoctions for everything from liniment to buggy polish, and
sometimes these include a beer or two as well. They invariably contain recipes for
compounded cordials, and some of these spice mixtures translate very well to beer or
mead recipes. My notorious chanterelle ale came from such a schnapps recipe. Look
for these in old bookstores; they’re neither hard to find nor expensive.
“The mouth of a perfectly contented man is filled with beer.”
— Egyptian inscription, 2200 B.C.E.
VERY ANCIENT BEERS
As has already been noted, the Egyptians and Sumerians were crazy for beer, and
it played an important role in ritual as well as daily life. There is some evidence to
suggest that brewing was perhaps underway even earlier in the Kurdistan region of
what is now southeastern Turkey and northern Iraq. This is backed by the notion that
the region appears to have been home to several of the wild grasses domesticated
about the time people were learning to brew beer. It’s an iconoclastic idea, one that
the Sumerologists are having a hard time choking down.
Whatever was happening up north, the Sumerians must have been very busy.
They had seventy-seven terms relating to beer, twenty-two for malt, fifty for yeast,
and nine for malt cakes. According to records, their god of wisdom, Enki, was drunk a
lot.
A number of different grains were available to ancient peoples, including two-,
four-, and six-row barleys; emmer and einkorn wheat; spelt; and various types of
millet. Some of these grains made pretty lousy bread, and were undoubtedly used for
brewing. There’s a four-thousand-year-old cake of coarse barley on display in the
Oriental Institute in Chicago, so rough it makes your gums bleed to look at it. Such
cakes were a preliminary step to brewing, thankfully, so the ancients wouldn’t have
had to pick the husks from their teeth, and used a more tender grain for their daily
bread.
Sumerian Beer Terms
Kash or Kás
Basic word for “beer”; literally, “what the mouth desires”
Kashdùg or Kashdu
Sweet /fresh beer (as opposed to sour, perhaps?)
Kashgíg
Black beer
Kashgíg-dùgga
Fine sweet/fresh black beer
Kashkal
High quality strong beer
Kassi
Red-brown beer
Kashbir
Small/sweet beer, literally “beer to sniff”
Kash-sig
Fine quality beer
Kash-sur-ra
Pressed out beer (perhaps lautered as opposed to fermented mash?)
Ebla
Light beer; literally, “lessens the waist”
Ulushin
Emmer beer
In addition, these brewing-related terms are particularly interesting: sa-sa = reddish roasted barley; udun-
she-sa-a = barley roasting kiln; zíd-sig = cracked barley mixed with wheat flour; bappir=beer bread made
from barley dough, mixed with malt to make mash; dabin = coarse (?) barley flour. titab = beer mash;
kirash-i = emmer wheat for brewing; gakkul = clay brewing-vessel, mash tun; kíkkin = milling; mill
house; adj. for milling women; imhur = foam; titab = mash for beer; sa-shè = to roast barley; é-lunga =
beerhall or brewery, literally “house” + “brewer.”
In addition to fermentables from grain, other sources of fermentable sugars
existed in the form of dates, grapes, figs, palm sugar, honey, and other minor sources.
Spices and herbs were widely used as well. In the Bible one finds this
overflowing cupboard, most of which have been used as seasonings for beer at one
time or another, right up to the present day.:
anise, cumin, sweet flag, caraway, cassia cinnamon, citron, coriander, dill, hyssop,
juniper, mallow, mint, myrtle, myrrh, nettle, rue, saffron, thistles, and wormwood,
Recent chemical evidence has shown that ancient peoples were very adventurous
and willing to try all manner of combinations. Analysis of residues found at the
famous Minoan king Midas’ burial feast on the island of Crete suggests a beverage
made from malt, honey, and grapes. When this was recreated by Dogfish Head
Brewing, they added saffron, a spice known to have been growing in Phrygia in
ancient times.
“Se-bar-bi-gig-dug-ga!” (Bring me a dark one)
— Sargon to his royal cupbearer, 2300 B.C.E.
An Egyptian medical text called the Ebers Papyrus, dating to 1552 B.C.E. (but
believed to be a copy of a much earlier document) lists several hundred substances,
including acacia, basil, bayberry, cardamom, cubeb pepper, fenugreek, licorice,
mustard, tamarind, and thyme. The ancient people were very industrious, and it’s
pretty safe to say that they had rounded up and tasted just about every plant and
animal part they could get their hands on. The ones that were palatable in beer would
have found their way into the brewer’s pot, although availability and price would have
restricted expensive items like saffron to luxurious uses—for priests and potentates
only. The garlic-scented mandrake root, which was also dangerously psychotropic,
was also used in Egyptian brewing.
The Thracians, at the intersection of present day Greece, Turkey, and Bulgaria,
had a barley ale called Brytos or Bryton, a tradition they shared with the Peonians and
the Phrygians.
Papyrus Zoismus, 300 C.E.
“Take well-selected fine barley, macerate it for a day with water, and then
spread it for a day in a spot where it is well-exposed to a current of air. Then
for five hours moisten the whole once more, and place it in a vessel with
handles, the bottom of which is pierced after the manner of a sieve.
“The remainder must be ground up and a dough formed with it, after yeast has
been added, just as is done in bread-making. Next, the whole is put away in a
warm place, and as soon as fermentation has set in sufficiently, the mass is
squeezed through a cloth of coarse wool, or else put through a fine sieve, and
the sweet liquid is gathered. But others put the parched loaves into a vessel
filled with water, and subject this to some heating, but not enough to bring the
water to a boil. Then they remove the vessel from the fire, pour its contents
into a sieve, warm the fluid once more, then put it aside.”
Babylonian beer was made from various grists of malt bread, toasted, soaked, and
fermented with the addition of rye and spelt. At least three types are known: black
beer from one-fifth spelt and the rest malted bread; good black beer with more spelt;
and a red beer with more than a quarter spelt, other grains, and malted bread. A tablet
at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art mentions dark, pale, red, and three-fold
(triple?) beers, as well as recording beers with and without a head. Honey is also
mentioned in some ancient texts as a beer ingredient. At least sixteen different beers
were brewed in ancient Babylon. Big shots got special treatment as long, golden
straws.
Nubian beer was one of six named varieties of beer described on the Anastasi
Papyrus of Pelusium in Egypt, circa 2017 B.C.E. The pictures show a man offering a
tablet to another who is taking a meal. Surely this was the first beer list. It is recorded
as being bitter and not of long keeping.
So what can we say about the beers of the ancient world?
• Varying mixtures of malted and unmalted grains as mentioned previously,
mostly sun-dried, but sometimes baked into coarse cakes that would have added: 1)
color; 2) Maillard flavor; and 3) perhaps some smokiness. References to red and black
beers in several ancient cultures bear this out. Malt was kilned in kernel form as malt
kilning ovens are mentioned in texts.
• Just like today, every available grain was put into service in beer. Suitability for
brewing or for other foodstuffs, seasonality, availability, fashion, and other factors
would affect which ones got into a beer at any given point in time.
• Natural sugar sources such as honey and dates were used to boost the strength of
certain types of beer.
• Strong and weak, pale and dark, fresh and aged, clear and cloudy, flat and
carbonated, sweet and dry versions are mentioned in various sources. Many would
have been sour, but a number are specifically called “sweet.” An Egyptian pharaoh is
promised in the afterlife: “bread which doesn’t crumble and beer which doesn’t turn
sour.”
• In Egypt (and possibly elsewhere) a distinction was made between filtered and
unfiltered beer. The unfiltered stuff was pretty coarse, with chunks of husk and other
bits, and was served to working stiffs for whom any and all nutrition would have been
welcome. The premium stuff was reserved for the bigwigs.
• Carbonation and foam were known, but it seems unlikely that ancient people
would have been able to maintain these qualities in anything other than very fresh or
still-fermenting beer. However, it’s not completely out of the question that a sealed,
heavy ceramic jug could have held some pressure.
• Fermentation was left to wild or semi-domesticated sourdough strains that also
performed leavening duty in the bakery, which was usually right next door.
Sourdough yeast strains from the Middle East can be purchased today (see Appendix).
• Detailed recipes don’t exist, so we’re kind of on our own as far as trying to
bring these ancient beers to life, and it will be impossible to know if we ever get it
right.
An interesting pursuit, either for a club or an individual, would be to team up with
a researcher specializing in the ancient world and collaborate on brewing a beer under
his or her guidance. This has been done by commercial brewers a couple of times to
great fanfare, but with the skill and process flexibility possessed by many
homebrewers, the results should be rewarding.
Gold Beaker, Ur/Tell al Muqayyar, 2550-2400 B.C.E.
We can’t say for sure if this was a beer cup, but the Sumerians did have a goddess for
the stuff.
GREECE AND ROME
While beer was known to the classical world, it seems they never got too excited
about it. The Romans’ most famous utterance about it was from the Emperor Julian,
who said beer “...smelled of goat.” So screw them.
After the beer-drinkers took over their empire, there was that whole long Dark
Ages thing, where longstanding Bronze Age traditions were melded with a
Romanized (I refuse to say “civilized”) culture. Of course the details of the brewing
practices are quite lost, but interesting glimpses do exist in ancient literature such as
Beowulf and the Kalevala, already quoted in Chapter 4.
“Beer I bear to thee, column of battle! With might mingled, and
with bright glory: ’tis full of song, and salutary saws, of potent
incantations, and joyous discourses.”
— Brynhild to Sigurd, The Nibelung
CHEWSURES AND THE LUDI OF OSSETIA
Chewsuran Drinking Vessels
Woodcuts from Arnold’s Origin and History of Beer and Brewing, 1911.
The world is a large place with many places to hold fast to
ancient traditions. The following excerpt gives us an
eyewitness account of what Bronze Age brewing may have
looked like, even if it offers little information on the beer itself.
This is from a book entitled The Origin and History of Beer
and Brewing by John P. Arnold, published by the Wahl-Henius
Institute in 1911. He’s quoting G. Radde, Die Chewsuren und
ihr Land, Kassel 1878.
Dr. Radde was the director of the Caucasian Museum in Tiflis, and in that
capacity journeyed through the Caucusus. The result of one of these journeys
was his book, in which he tells us, among other things, about the Chewsures
and their manners and customs. One of the things he comments on is their
religious ceremonies and worship, being, as was the case with other races and
tribes, intimately connected with their beer and their practice of brewing, and
it is this which is of special interest to us...
“Where clumps of ancient trees are massed in close array—oak, maple, and
ash—we have before us the sacred groves of the Chewsures, preserved by them
with veneration; and within them may be found their pagan sacrificial altars,
as well as their beer breweries.” Then he circumstantially describes the two
sacred groves near Blo, to which he undertook excursions while stopping at
the village. One of these groves is dedicated to Saint George, the other to Saint
Michael.
“At the lower edge of the small wood, close to the field of barley, which
together with the adjoining meadows, is held the property of Saint George,
there stands a roughly constructed hovel, the place for sacrificing. This poor
structure is low, dark inside, carelessly put together from flat slabs of slate,
and for the moment it was not guarded by anybody. All the implements kept
inside, especially the huge beer-tubs, tankards, drinking cups, and the
manifold apparatus for brewing, are also looked upon as the property of the
guardian angel in question. In the other sacred grove to the east of Blo, they
happened to be brewing beer against the approaching holidays; that was why I
went thither to be an eye witness to the process.
“From the brewery of Saint Michael there escaped a continuous cloud of
smoke. Malting was going on there, and the acrid smoke, occasioned by the
damp brushwood which had to serve as fuel, together with the escaping steam
wrapped the brewhouse completely in a dusky mantle. The brew-house, too,
was built in the rudest way, low and insufficiently lighted. There, by a mighty
chain, hung the huge copper brew-kettle. Its form is peculiar, and everywhere
the same. In its form it most closely resembles a giant top, being from 1 1/2 to
2 arsheen high (3 1/2 to 4 1/2 feet) and at its greatest width about 1 1/4
arsheen (3 feet) wide. It begins to belly out at a point above the middle.
Artisans of Telaw fashion caldrons like these, their value being somewhere
between 100 and 200 roubles. Laterally, this caldron is held up by carelessly
joined stone rubble, while sooty flame licked at it in front and behind. The
mash was bubbling in it at a uniform rate, and was stirred now and then.
Water was conveyed from the nearby brook through a small pipe that was laid
against the outer edge of the cauldron. The crushed barley that is used for the
mash is coarse, and is boiled steadily for several days at an even temperature.
Then the brew is run into woolen bags, and the latter are fastened above the
rim of a vat, using wooden hoops for the fastening, so that the liquid slowly
runs into the vat below. The fresh brew thus made, is turbid, rather insipid,
and sweetish in flavor. It is poured into tubs 3 or 4 feet high, and 2 to 2 1/2 feet
wide, made of one piece (from sections of tree trunks hollowed out), basswood
being mostly used for this purpose. Then the required amount of Kakhetian
wild hops is added, and the liquor, well covered up, is allowed to stand for 5
or 6 days.
“Everything about these consecrated breweries is grimy with smoke and soot,
as is also the case with the dwellings and watchtowers of the Chewsurians, and
all the implements to be found upon the sacrificial altars and the breweries is
considered the personal property of the guardian angel, andis
correspondingly venerated.”
Radde further relates that women were excluded from the groves, shrines, and
breweries. Female participants in festivals remained behind boundaries, with
beer and food served to them there.
The brew incorporated wild hops and malted barley that is dried—and
develops color—over the course of several days, on racks positioned in the
eaves of the houses, above the heat of the hearth. Fermentation was done in
capacious earthenware pots buried in the ground, large enough for a man to
descend into using a ladder.
The beer was described as brown in color, reminiscent of dark Bavarian beer,
although “imperfectly clean.”
Chewsure, 1911
These isolated people held on to ancient brewing practices until a just a century ago.
THE AGE OF GRUIT
Gruit beer was the dominant beer of the European Middle Ages, and is intimately
connected with the power and prevalence of the church. It gave way to hopped beer
during the fifteenth century, only shortly before the Reformation, when church power
faded. This gruit concession was held by a monopoly, either a church or government
power, although sometimes licensed out to politically connected breweries. Since its
use was mandatory, gruit served as an early form of taxation on beer. Evidence of its
power to enrich the fat cat may still be seen in Bruges, Belgium, where a lavish gruit-
house remains to this day an absorbing tourist destination.
Gruithuis, Brugge
This moon guards the entrance to this opulent building, and serves as a symbol for a
local brew, Straffe Hendrik.
The Three Gruit Herbs
Bog MyrtleMyrica gale
A low-growing marsh plant from northern climes with a resiny, eucalyptus aroma. It has anti-oxidant
properties and a long history as an insect repellent as well as a beer ingredient. Its aromatic components are
mostly terpenes, a class of compounds also prominent in hops, along with plenty of tannins. Various
sources report that it was added to increase the potency of the beer, but I can find no evidence that
psychoactive properties have been documented.
Wild RosemaryLedum palustre
Another marsh plant thriving on the wet edges of boggy spots in the far north. Generally viewed as
inferior to bog myrtle. Not considered safe to consume internally. Used by Shamans in Siberia (the
Tungusi and other tribes) in a smoke form as an inebriant. Not hallucinogenic; more of a hypnotic. The
active ingredient may be palustride, a coumarin glucoside ester—a toxic relative of modern blood-
thinning drugs, and nothing to toy around with. Like Myrica gale, loads of tannins.
YarrowAchillea millefolium
A tall, spindly herb with masses of small flowers, widely available as an ornamental perennial. Related to
chamomile, it has been known to trigger hay fever-type allergic reactions. Otherwise no health issues.
The exact recipe for gruit was a closely held secret. Three herbs are always
mentioned in association with gruit (see sidebar), and a great number of other herbs
and spices were part of the mix as well, including juniper berries, ginger, caraway,
wormwood, aniseed, and others. Generally, the spices were mixed together with malt
flour or other starchy material, which helped to conceal the true nature of the mix.
Some argue that wild rosemary was just a poor substitute for bog myrtle and there
may be some truth to that. The flavors of both are along similar resinous, bay-and-
camphor lines, but wild rosemary is much harsher and more medicinal. The growing
habitats are not that different, and it’s clear from what information we have that all
three herbs were not always used, and that the choice of herbs tended to vary on a
regional basis. But the psychoactive properties of wild rosemary may have been
reason enough to keep it in the mix. It’s a hard problem to sort out, especially with
such limited information at hand.
Little useful information is available on the beer itself. Like all medieval ales, it
was likely to be strong, dark, smoky, and possibly a bit sour from long contact with
wooden casks and tuns. Various strengths of beer were brewed, as in all ages, dark or
not. To our tastes, the three most important seasonings—wild rosemary, yarrow, and
bog myrtle—are not all that tasty, with resinous, medicinal aromas topped off with a
load of tannic bitterness.
Gruit was displaced most everywhere by 1500, although it held on in Bremen
until the early eighteenth century.
Swedish Label, c. 1900
Once again, the Scandinavians set the mood.
THE HEATHER ALE OF SCOTLAND
Heather is actually a number of different low-growing heath plants adapted to
cold and otherwise barren landscapes of the North. Scotland is creepy with them, as is
Scandinavia and elsewhere. These plants have small, aromatic flowers that bloom in
late summer and have been used to flavor ales and other drinks for a very, very long
time.
The flower tops are redolent of resin and perfume, with a complex honeyed
character—quite delicious as a beverage seasoning. The flowers are somewhat
delicate, and start to lose their aroma as soon as they are picked. Heather is mentioned
in connection with drinks from Scandinavia and the other places it grows, but it is in
Scotland where heather ale is legendary.
Heather ale is associated with the Pictish tribes of Scotland, the land’s original
inhabitants who were eventually pushed aside by the Celts. Archaeological evidence
in the form of pollen dates heather ale to at least 1000 B.C.E. Calluna and Erica
heather have been chemically identified on a crusty potsherd, along with
meadowsweet and royal fern.
It is hard to say whether the mythic status of heather derives from the beautiful
carpet of blossoms, the lovely aroma, or the powdery psychoactive fungus—called
fog, or fogg—that adheres to it. An observer writing about heather honey in 1804
says, “I well remember, however, that, for two years that I used it, it almost always
rendered me drowsy. Sometimes it composed me to sleep as effectually as a moderate
dose of laundanum would have done.” The honey may have contained some of the
fungus from the heather.
A modernized—that is to say, drinkable—gruitbier.
Gravity: 1.054 (13 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.5 to 5.2%
Color: Brown
Bitterness: 10 IBU (or less)
Yeast: Belgian or German ale
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
Hops may be added for preservative value, but they were not traditional in this brew. If using, I suggest
the lowest alpha variety you can find, which is typically Saaz. Between 0.5 and 1 ounce, boiled the full 90
minutes, ought to do.
All-Grain Recipe:
5.0 lb (2.3 kg)47%pale malt
RECIPE
Do It To It Gruit
4.5 lb (2 kg)
42%aromatic/melanoidin
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
9%smoked malt
0.25 lb (113 g)
2%brown or pale chocolate
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
5.0 lb (2.3 kg)
74%amber dry malt extract
0.5 lb (227 g)
7%dark crystal
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
15%smoked malt
0.25 lb (113 g)
4%brown or pale chocolate
Mash for an hour at 154° F (67° C).
To the last five minutes of the boil, add: 2 ounces crushed juniper berries; 5 grams each of bog myrtle
(Myrica gale), caraway, mugwort (Artemesia vulgaris), and winemaker’s grape tannin or grape seeds; 3
grams each of rosemary, ground cloves, and cardamom; and three whole California bay laurel leaves.
Note that I have omitted the yarrow and wild rosemary (Ledum palustre), which were invariably
mentioned as gruit components. From a health standpoint, these are questionable, and I can’t recommend
them. If you want to add them for authenticity, you’re on your own.
3.
From the bonny bells of heather, They brewed a drink longsyne,
Was sweeter far than honey, Was stronger far than wine.
— Robert Louis Stevenson, Heather Ale
Mind-altering substances have often been
central in beer, and let’s keep in mind that
alcohol is no slouch in that area—even hops
have a reputation for inducing sleep. You and I
are in it for much more than the kick, but people
in other times and places have had all kinds of
relationships with their drinks.
The poem quoted at right recounts a mythic episode set in the era of the Celtic
conquest over the original Pictish inhabitants of Scotland, which occurred around the
sixth century. The Pictish king, back against the precipice, chooses to plunge to
certain death rather than reveal the secret of heather ale. The legend is centered
around Mull, which is at the southern end of a long, narrow peninsula, just the sort of
place to make a last stand. Different versions of this tale are told across northern
Europe, sometimes with gold or another treasure rather than beer as the focus.
The legend is very noble, but a bit melodramatic. You can just imagine the Celtic
invaders looking across miles and miles of nothing but heather, heather, heather,
scratching their chins and muttering to each other, “Now, where on earth are we going
to find something to spice up this ale?”
Heather Plants
Bell heather, also known as bonnie bells. There are two species of importance:
Erica tetralix and E. cinerea.
Ling or broom heather, Calluna vulgaris.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.065 (15.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.3 to 6.2%
Color: Amber
Bitterness: 11 IBU
Yeast: Scottish ale
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.6 kg)65%pale ale malt
RECIPE
Heather Ale
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)25%
amber malt
0.25 lb (113 g) 2%
brown malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 8%
honey, preferably heather, added to secondary
Mash at 155° F (68° C) for one hour.
Extract + Steeped Grain Recipe:
3.5 lb (1.6 kg)45%
pale dry malt extract
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)39%
amber dry malt extract
0.25 lb (113 g) 3%
brown malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 13%
honey, preferably heather, added to secondary
Hops & Spices:
1.0 oz (28 g)60 minSaaz (3% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
end of boil heather flower tops
0.25 oz (7 g)
end of boil meadowsweet
Invasion notwithstanding, heather ale survived as a
rustic folk brew, but it doesn’t seem to have ever been
brewed on any commercial scale. After the English
defeated the Scots once and for all after the battle of
Culloden in 1746, all things Scottish were banned,
heather ale among them (and also subject to a 1707
English law that forbade the use of substances other
thanhopsasbitteringagents).Withthe
industrialization of brewing that occurred about this
time, many quaint and curious old brews passed into
oblivion.
Which is where it would have remained, had it not
been for a Scottish homebrew shop owner named Bruce Williams, who became
interested in the style and managed to get his hands on an old family recipe. He
brewed up some heather ale, which he called Fraoch, after the Gaelic word for
heather. His version—now a commercial product—is 5 percent alcohol by volume,
deep amber in color, with the sweet honey-like fragrance of heather blooms. Fraoch is
seasoned with sweet gale (bog myrtle) and meadowsweet along with the heather,
which goes through a cleansing process to remove the powdery “fog” that might
provide an unwanted thrill here in the modern world.
Heather is harvested in August and September, and the flowers lose their perfume
rather quickly. They are best treated as aroma hops, tossed into the kettle as soon as
the heat is turned off, and allowed to steep for a while. As they have a delicate flavor,
a relatively large quantity is needed.
OLD INGREDIENTS AND QUANTITIES
We always think of ourselves as quite superior in our modern age. So it’s very
interesting to see that when Richardson first brought the use of the saccharometer (or
hydrometer) into the profession of brewing in 1777, he recorded percentages of yield
from contemporary barley malts at very similar levels as today, at least for the best
grades available at that time. There must have been some incredible inefficiencies in
pre-industrial brewing, as well as a lot of variation from brewer to brewer. Some of
the quantities of ingredients called for in pre-1800 recipes were truly staggering. In
brewing such concoctions, make your best guess at what the strength really was, then
follow the proportions and use reliable utilization figures to hit your target.
Hops—at least traditional low-alpha aroma varieties—also may not have been
drastically different in centuries past. The first hop extract production plant went into
service in 1873, and the measurement of hop alpha acid came some decades later,
although cruder measures were available. Serious scientific efforts to breed hops
began at that time, and the first commercial high-alpha varieties were introduced in
1917. Up until that time a new variety may have made it into production every century
or so, and growers were selecting for desirable agricultural properties and aromatic
character, not particularly for high bitterness. And since there was no incredible
difference in cultivation that would occasion a dramatic increase in alpha content over
a century or two, I am inclined to believe that the traditional breeds of hops back then
were not dramatically different from today, at between 3.0 and 4.5 percent alpha acid.
There have certainly been improvements in year-to-year consistency and storage,
which might knock a percent or two off, so we might look at the 1.5 to 3 percent
(effective) alpha acid range as a good guesstimate. That’s my story and I’m sticking to
it.
It is important to consider the context of the beers in the old stories. Throughout
history, brewers have made a range of beers: small, medium, strong, and sometimes
extra strong. Our notion of this is not radically different from times past, so if a beer
seems to be a everyday drinking beer, then a strength of between 1.040 and 1.060 is
probably called for, and so on up and down the scale. I know this is vague, but given
the incredible imprecision of old recipes (and our grasp of them) even such
guesstimates can be comforting—and useful.
Brewing is generally a very conservative profession, and accepts new ideas,
ingredients, or technologies only when there is a clear and proven need for them. This
is so unlike our modern industrial world, which has jettisoned pretty much everybody
except the Department of Improvements, which is exhorted to whip out the latest gee-
gaws at a dizzying pace. It is comforting to be engaged in an endeavor in which it it is
actually possible to roll back the clock a bit.
FINNISH SAHTI
There are so many dead beers out there, it’s great
when you find an old-timer alive and kicking. Sahti claims
to be the oldest continuously brewed style of beer in the
world, which may be arguable, but it’s certainly the oldest
in Europe. Brewing in Scandinavia goes back a thousand
years at least, probably much earlier. Sahti barrels were
found on sunken Viking ships dating to the ninth century,
and there is hard evidence of malting just a little later. Rye
was unknown in Finland until the twelfth century, so it’s a
“modern” addition to the recipe. Hops show up in the
fourteenth century and gain widespread acceptance over
the next couple of centuries, as elsewhere in Europe.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.062 (15 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.2 to 5%
Color: Amber
Bitterness: 8 IBU
Yeast: Compressed bread yeast, no more than one-fourth small cake
Maturation: 2 to 4 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.6 kg)71%
Pilsener malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)9%
aromatic/melanoidin (dark Munich)
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)9%
malted rye
0.75 lb (340 g)7%
extra dark crystal/special B
0.5 lb (227 g)4%
malted rye, smoked over pine, spruce, and juniper berries
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops & Spices:
0.3 oz (9 g)
60 minNorthern Brewer
1.0 oz (28 g)
60 mincrushed juniper berries
RECIPE
Sahti
Boil juniper branches in the mash liquor. Mash procedure: step mash, with 15-minute rests at 104° F (40°
C), 130° F (54° C), 148° F (64° C), 172° F (78° C), and a mash out at 190° F (88° C). This is normally
accomplished by small additions of boiling water, resulting in a very thin mash at the end. Lauter over
juniper branches placed in the bottom of the mash tun.
Even with the addition of hops to the sahti tradition, it never edged juniper out of
the limelight. Branches are used as a filter aid and as a flavoring in the mash liquor,
and berries are used as a seasoning in the mash. The earliest description of the
brewing process dates to 1780, and by that time sahti was already somewhat of a
quaint beer. The brewing process was similar to present-day techniques. The same
Finnish Kuurna
The traditional lauter tun for sahti is made from a hollowed out log. Juniper branches
are laid upon the slats in the bottom.
Many sahti brewers in Finland use a premixed malt that includes 85 percent
Pilsener malt, 10 percent pale crystal, and 5 percent two-row enzyme malt, although
author (Asplund) also mentions the use of fresh raspberries in the southern
Tammisaari region of Finland.
Unlike other European countries such as Poland and Lithuania, laws in Finland
have allowed home and farm brewing over the centuries (with just a few
interruptions), so that sahti has remained a living tradition. There is a commercial
tradition of sahti brewing as well, including brewery pubs and export to faraway
places like Uppsala, Sweden, and wherever that cask on the Viking ship was heading.
There are several commercial breweries producing and packaging sahti today.
Sahti is amber in color, relatively strong, with a sweet maltiness countered by a
strong juniper aroma. Hopping is quite light. Various strengths are sometimes
brewed—including a lighter “women’s sahti”—but the normal gravity is around 1.070
to 1.080. It tastes lighter than it is. In its traditional form it is uncarbonated, although,
because it is consumed quickly, it may retain a bit of prickle from an active secondary
fermentation. A month is the extent of the shelf life, due in large part to not boiling
the wort.
many brewers add 10 percent or more rye malt to this, often toasted for color and
flavor. None of these malts are smoked, as they are in other Scandinavian folk-brews.
A scant armful of juniper branches, preferably with berries on them, are placed
into a kettle full of water, which is then brought to a boil, and this hot liquor is used to
mash in. The traditional mash is an upward step infusion, with small amounts of
boiling water added every half hour for up to six hours, constantly raising the mash
temperature bit by bit, although the temperature falls during the rests so there’s a
prolonged period at or near conversion temperatures (149 to 155° F or 65 to 68° C).
The mash is drained through juniper branches using a long trough called a
kuurna, made from a hollowed-out log. It is common to use the first runnings for a
stronger beer, then make a smaller beer with the sparged runnings.
Bread yeast is often used, and a certain sourness is appropriate. This can come
from lactobacillus lurking in the unboiled wort or in wooden fermenters such as butter
churns, or may be introduced in a more controlled manner via sourdough starter or
pedigreed lactobacillus starter. Bread yeast is commonly used, with the caution that
only a very small amount is needed. I used a quarter of a small foil pack of caked
bread yeast when I did mine, and it was plenty. Sourdough starters are usually a little
more sluggish, so a normal pitching quantity ought to be fine with them.
Keptinus Alus Literally “baked beer” in Lithuanian, this is a surviving relic of an
ancient brewing tradition of using bread as a starting point for everyday beer. I can’t
seem to find much in the way of details, but there may be similarities to the French
kiszlnschtschi recipe, in which the mash is literally baked in an oven. Barley, rye,
and/or wheat were all used, along with hops, and sometimes sugar and peas, said to
increase the froth of the head. A small beer similar to kvass, called salde, was made
from malted or unmalted rye, or brown rye bread.
Ich am a Cornishman, ale I can brew
It will make one cacke, also to spew.
It is thick and smokey and also it is thin
It is like wash as pigs had wrestled there in
— Andrew Boorde, 1540
DEVON WHITE ALE
This beer was a curious remnant of medieval culture that managed to survive until
around the middle of the nineteenth century. Brewed in both Cornwall and
Devonshire, there are a number of tantalizing references to it, starting as early as the
reign of Henry VIII (1509 to 1547), where the invention of it was ascribed to a
German military officer.
Yield: 1 gallon (3.8 liters)
Gravity: 1.024 (6° P)
Alcohol/vol: 2 to 2.5%
Color: Cloudy pale straw
Bitterness: None
Yeast: Bread Yeast, 1/4 cake compressed (ale yeast may be used instead)
Maturation: 1 week
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
Pilsener malt
3.0 oz (84 g)
wheat flour
0.5
egg white
0.2 oz (6 g)
kosher (non-iodized) salt
Grout:
1 small cake
bread yeast
0.25 oz (7 g)
freshly ground coriander
0.25 tsp (1 g)
powdered ginger
0.12 tsp (0.5g)
caraway
Note that this a 1 - gallon recipe.
RECIPE
Devon White Ale
London and Country Brewer, 1736:
“Their white Ale is a clear Wort made from pale Malt, and fermented with
what is called ripening, which is a Composition, they say, of the Flower [flour]
of Malt, Yeast, and Whites of Eggs, a Nostrum made and sold only by two or
three in those Parts, but the Wort is brewed and the Ale vended by many
Publicans, which is drank while it is fermenting in Earthen Steens, in such a
thick manner as resembles butter’d Ale, and sold for Twopence Halfpenny the
full Quart. It is often prescribed by Physicians to be drank by wet Nurses for
the encrease of their Milk, and also as a prevalent Medicine for the Colick and
Gravel.”
A description written in 1808 goes thus:
“The brewing of a liquor called white ale, is almost exclusively confined to the
neighborhood of Kingsbridge: its preparation, as far as could be learnt by the
Surveyor, is 20 gallons [75 pounds] of malt mashed with the same quantity of
boiling [sic] water; after standing the usual time, the wort is drawn off, when
six eggs, four pounds of flour, a quarter of a pound of salt and a quart of
grout, are beat up together and mixed with this quantity of wort, which, after
standing twelve hours is put into a cask and is ready for use by the following
day. The beverage produces a very intoxicating quality, and is much admired
by those who drink not to quench thirst only.”
It is commonly reported that the houses in this area lacked
cellars, as they were situated on solid bedrock. The white ale
was fermented indoors in 5-gallon crocks or “steens,” mainly by
local women who paid half a guinea annually for the privilege
of being able to sell it.
We can only guess what mysterious ingredients formed the
core of the grout; observers in the past never seemed privy to the
secret. I suppose it will take a molecular anthropologist to
scrape a bit of crust off an ancient crock. So I’m just going to take a wild stab at it,
and suggest a combination of spices known to be in use then and in white beers of the
Continent.
KVASS
This is an ancient Russian drink, part of the
worldwide family of small beers that have been made
throughout the ages using the smallest possible
amount of the cheapest local ingredients. Kind of
like... well, you know, it comes in cans. Cheap, weak,
refreshing, and usually a little sour, they are above all
safe to drink. From peasants to Czars, everybody
drank kvass. In the firmament of Russian food and
drink, it was the second most treasured staple, next to
sauerkraut.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.024 (6 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 2 to 2.5%
Color: Pale gold
Bitterness: 11 IBU
Yeast: Bread yeast, one-fourth cake compressed (ale yeast may be used instead)
Maturation: 1 week
All-Grain Recipe:
1.75 lb (0.79 kg) 37%
rye flour
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 25%
six-row malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 25%
rye malt
9.0 oz (255 g) 13%
buckwheat (kasha), toasted
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
RECIPE
Kvick Kvality Kvass
Mix with warm water and hold for a one hour mash at 150° F (65.5° C). Seasonings, added to the mash:
0.12 oz (3.5 g) peppermint (be aware that fresh mint in the grocery store is spearmint); juice and zest of
one lemon. The wort is traditionally unboiled.
In the very old days, kvass was made simply by mixing water with flour, then
allowing it to sour. Various types of grain were used—whatever was handy, including
rye, barley, wheat, and buckwheat, sometimes with sugar added. Stale rye bread is
also a common starting point. At one time street vendors sold it from pushcarts
equipped with tanks. Various seasonings were used, but peppermint emerged as the
favorite. Raisins were commonly added. Lemon slices or juice is a more modern
addition.
As it became more of a commercial product, spontaneous fermentation was
replaced by cultured yeast, but some kind of souring material is needed to get to the
0.15 to 0.5 percent lactic acid content. Today it may be found bottled like soft drinks,
and it is in fact alcohol-free in this form. It’s lightly spritzy, a sort of malty ginger ale
kind of thing, less sweet than regular soda pop. Nice enough, but sanitized and
simplistic compared to the real stuff from the old days.
Here’s the traditional manner of homebrewing: boiling water is poured over rye
bread and allowed to stand twenty-four hours. Then sugar, cream of tartar, and a sour
starter made from wheat flour and brewing or baking yeast is added. As soon as it
starts to ferment, it is bottled. In a few days it’s ready to drink. Alcohol content should
be in the range of 1 to 2 percent.
The following is based on an 1896 recipe from a German brewing journal, a
commercial recipe made from grain rather than bread. I’m making this a little on the
strong side, just to kind of go with the homebrew spirit, but you can cut the quantities
of everything but water by two-thirds and still be in the range.
There’s no reason you couldn’t scale it up either. If I were doing that, I would
replace the rye flour with half barley malt, half rye malt, and conduct more of a
conventional brewing and fermentation process.
There is a British small beer similar to kvass called “bee’s wine,” with no
connection to either bees or wine, but which was made from stale bread and sugar.
Kiszlnschtschi is an elegant, spritzy variation on kvass. Wagner’s description
(1877) gives us a pretty good idea.
“The colorless kiszlnschtschi* is essentially a sparkling kwass with less
nutritive value than the actual kwass; it is a delight for the taste buds, a
refined kwass, which is quite beloved for its carbonation in the summer.
Called ‘grain champagne,’ it’s prepared from barley, wheat, and rye
malts, plus wheat flour, pearl barley and buckwheat, which are mixed
together with boiling water and mashed for 6 hours.
“The quantity of mash water is about three times the grist. After a
quantity of boiled and cooled water is mixed in, it is aromatized with
peppermint, then clarified by pouring through a filter into a barrel,
whereupon the liquid ferments and develops a good sourness, but before
it is completed, it is removed from the fermenter and filled into
champagne bottles. Into each one is placed a bit of sugar and 2 grapes.
The bottles are well corked and wired, then stored in ice cellars to
pressurize and to incorporate the flavors of the added materials.”
* “kiszlh” means sour and “schtschi” means cabbage soup.
A French book, circa 1800, gives us this recipe for Kislischis:
“Take 20 kg barley, plus 1 kg of barley malt or rye malt; moisten this
mix a little, and stir until it has acquired the consistency of molasses.
Place it in large iron pots, and put them in a preheated oven with the
embers joined together and moved to the sides; four hours afterwards,
you will remove the pots from the oven, and then sprinkle the mixture
little by little into a tun of approximately 70 bottles [14 gallons]
capacity, then ladling in more hot water and two ladles of dried mint:
agitate the whole during a quarter of an hour on several occasions; the
barrel is covered, and after two or three days, the liquor can be tapped.
The klisischis will still be bubbling slightly. It is a little tart, with a very
agreeable taste.”
Russian Label, c. 1900
OLD MOSCOW BROWN ALE OR MOSKOVSKAYA
Accurately called “One-Day Beer” in nineteenth century Moscow, this is a folk
beer, rich and full of yeast and carbohydrates. It was brewed at home, serving as
nutrition for villagers, especially women and infants. In a harsh climate full of very
poor people, this brew must have really fit the definition of “liquid bread.”
The description I have seen (Wagner, 1877) calls for a mixture of 93 percent by
volume of barley flour or meal, and 7 percent wheat malt. It is not clear whether either
of these are roasted, or whether a colored sugar syrup is used, but the color was
described as “brown.”
A related black beer was brewed from a “...mixture of barley and rye malt,” using
a thin mash and very little in the way of hops. This was top-fermented, and finished
very sweet. Again, no description of which ingredient provided the black color, but
roasted rye is a traditional product that is still available from German maltsters.
These heavy brown beers form a family of nutritious, partially fermented brews
that stretched from Russia to England, roughly the same territory as white beers. Most
of them died out before 1900, although a few, such as Belgian diest, managed to
survive a few decades more.
“Bung, Ho!”
— Old British toast
ALES AND BEERS OF JOLLY OLD ENGLAND
This is the England of our archetypal dreams—at a crossroads between the
medieval and the modern, the Industrial Revolution and the smoky conviviality of the
country pub. Toby jugs, John Bull, a mighty nation forcing itself on the world, but
longing only for a humming pint by the fire on a damp winter’s night.
This dichotomy still may be encountered in England, as elsewhere in Europe. In
the invention of America, the ancient taproots needed to sustain such crusty
quaintness were severed completely, and this has only heightened our nostalgia for the
“good old days.” Such constructs are always a bit dishonest, but in the end, they
reflect desires for something simple and timeless. The craft brewing movement
harnesses this as a prime motivating force.
Melodramatics aside, there were some really interesting beers back then.
The period between about 1680 and 1840 was a unique era when there were
plenty of quaint old brewing traditions, now extinct or within living memory. But
thanks to the Industrial Revolution, the means existed for the first time to produce
books at reasonable costs, which means that a lot of information has survived to this
day.
DORCHESTER BEER—FILLINB A 300-YEAR-OLO BOTTLE
I recently acquired what was described as a “three-hundred-year-old beer bottle,”
unearthed from beneath a seventeenth-century cottage in Cerne Abbas, Dorset,
England. It is crude and heavy, off-round, with a lopsided neck, holding about a pint
and a half.
Nothing about its appearance suggests more than a passing relationship with the
Industrial Revolution. Its salt glaze is uneven; there are chips, exploded bubbles,
stones, even traces of handprints from the potter who threw it. Crude, heavy, and ugly,
this relic drew me into its tale. I tried to imagine it full, corked, and holding a well-
aged brew, warming some beer-lover’s heart on a chilly night in Dorset. What would
such a beer taste like? Strong, weak, hoppy, herbed? It could have been any of those.
English Tall Ale Glass, c. 1800
Just the thing for strong old ale.
Cerne Abbas is a famous place noted for its hillside chalk figure
of a giant with a huge erection, carved into the hill by some hairy
Druidic race now long vanished. Newlyweds and other couples
seeking children are advised to go out and avail themselves (wink,
wink, nudge, nudge) of the power of the aforementioned member as
a fertility charm.
The region is Dorset, a short hop south of London, famous
among beer aficionados as the home of Eldridge Pope, makers of
the barley wine named for their favorite son, Thomas Hardy. By
now many of you are familiar with his famous quote describing
Dorset beer, written in 1870:
“It was of the most beautiful color that the eye of an artist could desire:
full in body, yet brisk as a volcano: piquant, yet without a twang:
luminous as an autumn sunset, free from streakiness of taste: but, finally,
rather heady. The masses worshipped it, the minor gentry loved it more
than wine, and by the most illustrious country families it was not
despised. But its whole army of brewers have passed away, its flavor is
forgotten except by a few aged men, and the secret of its composition
appears to have been completely lost as that of Falstaff’s beverage.”
A writer praised Dorset beers in 1700, “...the people here have learned to brew
the finest malt liquors in the kingdom, so delicately clean and well tasted that the best
judges... prefer it to the ales most in vogue as in Hull, Derby, Burton, &c.” At that
time, a great deal of Dorset beer was being shipped to London, the porter revolution
there having not yet begun.
I wish I could say that this recipe was copied intact from some ancient scrap of
goatskin. The cold, hard fact remains that we will never really know what was in this
bottle. What you see here represents a “could have been” approach.
The color of Dorchester beer was described in 1737 as “bright amber.” We’ll be
using a base made of half pale ale malt, and half amber malt. The latter was once
widely used for a variety of beers in England, including some early porters. Described
these days as “biscuit,” it has a unique toasted, nutty taste unlike anything else. About
20 to 25° L, it was formerly made by kilning malt over a straw fire, which produced a
clean, unsmoked taste.
The yield of this beer was noted as “two barrels per quarter,” meaning that 336
pounds of malt made 86.4 U.S. gallons, or 19.5 pounds in a 5-gallon batch. Pretty
beefy. This recipe also calls for “Kentish” hops at the rate of 6 or 7 pounds to the
quarter, which translates into the quantities that follow. This is a moderate rate for a
strong beer like this.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.096 (23 °P)
RECIPE
Giant Ale of Cerne Abbas
Alcohol/vol: 7 to 8.3%
Color: Deep amber
Bitterness: 61 IBU
Yeast: Alcohol-tolerant English ale
Maturation: 4 to 8 months
For a real authentic tang, use a packet of Brettanomyces or mixed lambic culture once the beer has settled
down, and age on this for six months to a year. This recreates the flora found in the wooden casks such
beers were aged in, and can be tasted still in such beers as Gales Prize Old Ale.
All-Grain Recipe:
13.0 lb (5.9 kg)68%
amber/biscuit malt
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)32%
pale ale malt
No Extract Equivalent Recipe
Hops & Spices:
3.0 oz (85 g)
90 min
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
3.0 oz (85 g)
10 min
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
0.25 oz (7 g)
end of boil
fresh sage
Infuse the mash with 7 gallons of hot water at 170° F (76.5° C). This should give a strike temperature of
151 to 153° F (66 to 67° C). Hold for two hours, as starch conversion is apt to be slow. You can test with
iodine (if it turns blue, it’s not yet converted); once you get conversion, run off the mash. Once this first
mash is run off, add 2 to 3 gallons of 180° F (82° C) water to the mash to make up to 6 gallons of wort,
which will boil down to a little over 5.
Ferment with your favorite English yeast strain, built up into a starter, or better yet, pitch from the
sediment of a recently emptied secondary.
The Cerne Abbas Giant
Carved through the turf to reveal white chalky soil, this big guy has been doing his
thing for millennia.
One other recipe for Dorchester beer mentions the use of sage, sassafras, and
checkerberry as ingredients. Although by 1700 hopped beers were the norm, I’m
tossing in a bouquet of spices as a nod to earlier days.
Brewing in England at that time was done in a “parti-gyle” manner, meaning that
the runnings from the mash tun were not all mixed together, but were fermented into
two or even three different beers. We’ll use the first two-thirds, which will give us a
rich, strong brew. The remainder can be tossed, or made into a small beer by the
addition of a pound or two of molasses or cooked sugar, or re-mashed with a couple
of pounds of additional amber malt before sparging the small beer.
I have a French recipe from about 1800 for Dorchester Ale, which used 100
percent amber malt exclusively, was highly hopped, and included large quantities of
ginger, salt, and licorice.
SOME ODDS AND ENDS OF OLD ENGLISH BEER STYLES
Hogen Mogen A strong English ale, most likely spiced, popular in the mid-
seventeenth century. Sometimes also called “rug” (which was also a generic term for
any strong ale). The famous host and gadabout, Horace Walpole, was famous for his
homebrewed Hogen. Dryden in 1663 laments: “I was drunk, damnably drunk with
ale, great hogen mogen bloody ale.” The name derived from a Dutch form of formal
address that meant “high and mighty.” If there is an extant recipe for this, it is still
hiding from the present-day brewing community.
English Names for Strong Ale
Stingo
Dagger
Dragon’s Milk
Clamberskull
Humming Ale
Huffcap
Hum-cup
Nipitatum
Rug
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
RECIPE
Oh, Your Highness Windsor Ale
Gravity: 1.076 (18 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 7.2 to 8.3%
Color: Medium gold
Bitterness: 29 IBU
Yeast: English ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
12.0 lb (5.4 kg) 92%
pale ale malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 8%
honey (added at end of boil)
Mash 1 hour at 152° F (67° C).
Extract and Steeped Grain Recipe:
7.0 lb (3.18 kg) 78%
pale dry extract
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 11%
pale crystal
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 11%
honey (added at end of boil)
Hops & Spices:
1.0 oz (28 g)90 min
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)20 min
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
end of boil East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
end of boil ground licorice root
0.25 oz (7 g)
end of boil crushed coriander
0.1 oz (3 g)
end of boil dried orange peel
0.1 oz (3 g)
end of boil grains of paradise
1.0 tsp (4 g)
end of boil ginger, grated
1.0 tsp (4 g)
end of boil caraway
Engligh Ale House Window, Date Unknown
Note the putti with tails and the donkeys in the shield!
Windsor Ale This is one more of the regional private house brewing recipes that crop
up in the books of the period, about 1800:
“Take 5 quarters of the best pale ale malt, half a cwt. of hops, 8 pounds of
honey, 1 pound of coriander seed, half pound of Grains of Paradise, half
pound of orange peel, and two-and-a-half pounds of liquorice root... six
ounces of ground ginger, and six ounces of ground caraway seed.”
“The drugs above mentioned are forbidden, under the penalty of two hundred
pounds, and the forfeiture of all utensils; but of course private families are at
liberty to use whatever they please. Nothing but malt and hops are permitted to
public brewers, except the colouring extract; and the druggists who sell to
brewers are subject to a penalty of five hundred pounds.”
Amber This beer showcases a once-popular malt type with the same name. Now more
commonly known as “biscuit,” this moderately toasted malt will produce a beer with a
toasty brown flavor, making it more in line with what we think of as a nut brown ale.
Amber was lightly hopped, and it appears as if it was the direct descendant of the
unhopped ales which were universal in England prior to the introduction of hops in
the sixteenth century. Still being sold at the time when porter rose to prominence, it
was eventually displaced by the newer pale ales. Amber appears to have been the beer
that in eighteenth-century London was called “twopenny,” and which was one of the
blending components of “three threads.” Amber was also used as a base for purl,
below.
In ancient and Medieval times, Welsh ale meant a type of bragot, a beer with a large proportion of honey.
By the early nineteenth century this connection had vanished.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.072 (17.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 7 to 8.3%
Color: Deep gold
Bitterness: 24 IBU
Yeast: English ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 weeks
All-Grain Recipe:
13.0 lb (5.9 kg)98%
pale ale malt
0.5 cup (4 oz)2%
molasses, added at end of boil
Extract Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.7 kg)97%
pale dry malt extract
0.5 cup (4 oz)3%
molasses, added at end of boil
Hops & Spices:
1.0 oz (28 g)
90 min
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
20 min
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
end of boil
East Kent Goldings (5% AA)
0.25 oz (7 g)
end of boil
grains of paradise, crushed
0.25 oz (7 g)
end of boil
liquorice root, ground
RECIPE
Welsh Ale, c 1800
Copper Ale Pot, English, c. 1800
Purl Contained wormwood, gentian root, sweet flag, snake root, horseradish, dried
orange peel, juniper berries, orange seeds, and galingale. Purl was normally made by
infusing amber ale also called “twopenny” with these spices mentioned, typically
hung in a muslin bag inside the cask as the beer matured. It was sold along the canals
and other waterways in England in the eighteenth century by vendors called
“purlmen.”
China Ale Ale infused with coriander and “China root” (ginger). Spices were usually
placed in cloth bags and hung in the barrel.
THICK GOOEY BEERS
This is a family of thick, dark, highly nutritious beers brewed all across northern
Europe. Some of these were more or less like normal dark beers, although on the
sweet side. Some, like the Danziger Jopenbier described below, are the strange,
mutant monsters of the beer family tree.
These were not everyday beers, but nourishing fortifiers drunk by the likes of
nursing mothers. And in the case of Jobenbier, it wasn’t drunk by itself at all, but used
as a seasoning, either for a lighter beer, or for soups and gravies.
Weaterwald Stein, late 1800s.
Danziger Jopenbier Danzig is the German name for the city of Gdansk, now in
Poland, but for a long time it was a part of Germany, as was the rest of Prussia. Its
beers have a longstanding reputation for strength. Doctor Knaust reports in 1614 that
the barley beer of Danzig “is the queen and surpasses all other red beers. Although
there are in Prussia many delicious and good beers, the Danzig beers overtops them
all; and in fact, there is not found in the whole of Germany a stronger beer among the
barley beers, a thing which cannot be denied, no matter what else may be claimed.”
And boy, this is a strange one!
According to observers in about 1900, this was a beer brewed with conventional
ingredients and processes, except for the massive gravity that was achieved by large
amounts of malt, and a boil that lasted ten hours or longer. By the time the wort was
turned out, the gravity was at a syrupy 45 to 55 °P! The beer was hopped at a rate of 7
to 8 gallons per kilogram (0.13 ounces per pound) of malt. Then things get really
weird.
Fermentation was said to have taken place in cellars completely covered with
mold, which was carefully guarded against cleaning. No culture yeast was pitched,
and the beer went through a five-stage process completely by spontaneous means.
Brewing was allowed only between October and April, fermentation in summer being
considered too vigorous.
First, a thin white film of mold formed, then changed to bluish green, which
accounted for the first two weeks. Then, bubbling gas started coming up from the wort
and broke up the film, which, in turn, further sped up the fermentation. This
proceeded very vigorously for ten to fourteen days, and provisions needed to be made
to retain and return the overflow to the fermenter. In the third phase, the yeast kind of
settled out. Then another film formed on the surface—white at first, then dark brown,
then at last green, growing and thickening, folding itself up into great ridges as it
floated on the surface.
An important part of this very ugly fermentation seems to have been the
development of certain oxidized flavors that are normally associated with port or
sherry, caused by yeast that lives on the surface of the liquid. At this point it’s two or
three months old. Aging continues for up to a year, and at the end it is slowly forced
through a cloth filter bag and placed into 13-liter crocks or jugs.
Lager, ale, and sherry-type yeasts were present, as well as Penicillum and Mucor
molds, lactobacillus, and possibly other microorganisms. A real zoo. Alcohol was
very low, at 2.3 to 7 percent; lactic acid was fairly high (about like lambic) at 2
percent, although given the incredible amount of residual sweetness, it couldn’t have
been too assertive.
Jopenbier was widely exported to as far away as England, where it seems to have
been used as a seasoning for soups and gravies. In Germany it was a popular additive
to normal beer, as a flavor booster. As far as I can tell, it is no longer made anywhere
today, which is a shame. It really was a unique product.
Haarlem, Holland also claims a jopenbier, this one brewed with a large proportion
of oats, more than half in 1500, the remainder being split between malted wheat and
barley. A revival version is being brewed by the Haerlemsch Bierbrouwerij, an amber
beer of 6.5 percent alcohol, lightly hopped and seasoned with coriander.
Dutch Black Buckwheat Beer I have just two tantalizing references to this, both
English, and around 1700:
“...Buckwheat makes also an excellent drink, and is very much used in
Holland...”
“as the Hollanders do their thick Black Beer Brewed with Buck Wheat.”
Mumme An herb tonic brewed from barley malt created in Braunschweig, Germany,
but also very well known—and brewed—in England. Here’s the famous English
recipe John Bickerdyke dredged up from The Receipt Book of John Nott, 1723
(although Bickerdyke dates it to 1682):
“To make a vessel of sixty-three gallons, we are instructed that the water
must be first boiled to the consumption of a third part, then let it be
brewed according to art with seven barrels of wheat-malt, one bushel of
oat-malt, and one bushel of ground beans. When the mixture begins to
work, the following ingredients are to be added: three pounds of the
inner bark of fir; one pound each of the tops of the fir and birch; three
handfuls of Carduus Benedictus, dried; two handfuls of flowers of Rosa
solis [sundew]; of burnet, betony, marjoram, avens, pennyroyal, flowers
of elder, and wild thyme [Thymus drucei], one handful and a half each;
three ounces of bruised seeds of cardamum; and one ounce of bruised
bayberries. Subsequently ten new-laid eggs, not cracked or broken, are
to be put into the hogshead, which is then to be stopped close, and not
tapped for two years, a sea voyage greatly improving the drink.”
Some of these medicinal herbs, especially Carduus (blessed thistle), are
excruciatingly bitter—“bitter as gall,” as one poem stated. As for the rest: “...there is
scarcely any disease in nature against which some of them (ingredients) are not a sure
specific...”
This kooky recipe notwithstanding, mumme was one of the thick beers (dictbiers)
like jopenbier brewed in several places in northern Germany. Like jopenbier, mumme
featured an immensely thick wort, spontaneously fermented and aged for at least a
year. Analysis around 1900 gave the gravity at between 48 and 65° Plato, and 0 to 3
percent alcohol, indicating some versions were unfermented.
But earlier, mumme was a drinking beer. Hohberg, who in 1687 dismisses the
English recipe above as “...surely no Brunswick Mumm...” lays out the following by
way of a recipe:
“You must take two Brunswick Wispel [2500 pounds total] of perfectly
sound and well-roasted barley malt, and put this in a kettle with
sufficient water, letting it slowly boil [brew?] for 5/4 hours. Then, ladle it
out into a vat, and let it stand for a while, after which you will pour it
again into the kettle, but only the liquid part, not the malt), and let it
once more boil for another three hours, together with 15 “Himpen”[l00-
150 pounds] of good rustic hops. After letting the whole mass cool in the
vat, and after allowing it to ferment for the proper time... From this is
generally obtained 4 1/2 barrels.”
“Barrels” (faß) in this recipe is a vague term relative to seventeenth-century
Braunschweig, but generally, whole barrels tend to be in the 25 to 40 gallon range
everywhere. After the metric system was introduced, 100 liters became the standard
barrel, so if we take a stab and use that figure of about 26.4 gallons per barrel, this
comes to 119 gallons for the batch, for the stupidly large 21 pounds per gallon. If
“faß” means something more like a butt (126 gallons), then the total batch comes to
567 gallons, or 4.4 pounds per gallon, a high but not ridiculous figure.
The description indicates a no-sparge method, and this will typically produce
wort in the 1.080 to 1.090 range. A three-hour boil will bump this up to perhaps 1.085
to 1.100 (20.2 to 25 °P), still only half of the gravity of more recent versions. A mid-
nineteenth-century source says that “...hops, molasses, juniper berries, dried prunes,
and several aromatic herbs...” were added to the wheat and barley malt base. Sounds
kind of tasty to me.
Koyt A Dutch gruit beer, now recreated commercially by a small brewery in Haarlem,
Netherlands. Its present incarnation is interpreted from a 1407 recipe, a dark spiced
beer brewed from barley malt, wheat, and oats, showing lots of fruity overtones, and
strong at 1.074 OG. The old recipes indicate that bog myrtle was the dominant herb.
OUTLAW ALES OF NORTHERN GERMANY
We think of the Reinheitsgebot as a German
law, but it has only been so since 1877, a few
years after Bavaria joined the German Union. This
means that in other parts of Germany, especially
the Northeast, unique local beers incorporating
oats, molasses, honey, spices, and even salt were
still being brewed when the new—well, old,
actually—law came into force. This left many of
the former styles orphaned and worse; by World
War II, they had pretty much vanished. A few
enterprising craft breweries in Germany and
elsewhere are recreating a few of them, but much more work remains to be done.
Northern Germany was a part of a cultural continuum that stretched all along the
North Sea. In the medieval period, powerful city-states banded together for trade and
protection in a body known as the Hanseatic League. This gave brewers in Hansa
towns a powerful tool for selling beer: access to foreign markets. Guilds of both red
(barley) and white (wheat) beer brewers jostled for market share, and cities usually
became famous for one or the other. As was true all over the medieval world, limited
contact between people and the extreme cost of shipping everyday beer meant that
every town had its own unique beer. Dr. Lintner’s list (right) gives us a tantalizing
glimpse. Many of these local specialties lingered on until 1900 or so; now there are
just a handful. Even today, Germans cling to their local beers, although not so much
for the uniqueness of them as for simple civic spirit.
The old brewing books give us glimpses of some of these old timers. The more
popular styles of the nineteenth century are documented sufficiently to brew replicas
of some. Others get just a passing mention, maddening for recipe collectors like
myself. But we know how to brew, and there’s no shame in cooking up a recipe based
on just a sentence or two.
Mysterious German Local Beer Names
The famous Doctor Lintner provided this list for us in 1867. Many of these are just
local nicknames for a more widely brewed type of beer, but some of them do refer to
beers using unique recipes or brewing methods.
These now largely outdated names, which people in Germany have always attached to
their different beers, are idiosyncratic and revealing. A list of German local beer
names is just as fascinating as it is linguistically important. The most famous beer
names are:
Alter Klaus (Old Nick) in Brandenberg, at the edge of Berlin
Auweh (Oh dear) in Lützerode, near Jena, Hanover
Angst (Worry) in Garden
Bauchweh (Tummy-ache) in Grimma, southeast of Leipzig
Beissdenkerl (Thought-bite) in Boitzenburg, southeast of Hamburg and Lübeck
Bind den Kerl (the fine fellow) in Boitzenburg, Prussia
Blak (Soot/Smoke) in Kohlberg
Block in Kohlberg
Brausegut (Shower-good), Brauseput, Brauseloch, Bruselock in Beneckenstein and
Harz
Bocksbart (Goat’s-beard, a plant: Tragopogon pratensis) in Wartenburg, near Basel,
Switzerland
Bitterbier in Zerbst (near Magdeburg)
Broihan in Halberstadt, a type of altbier
Bürste (Brush) in Osnabrück
Daus in Ratzeburg
Dorfteufel (Village Devil) in Jena
Duckstein (Duck-stone) in Königslutter, near Braunschweig, a top-fermented beer
aged on or in beechwood. A beer by this name is still being beechwood-aged.
Dicktbier (Thick-beer) in Danzig. See earlier text referring to Jopenbier.
Filz (Felt, beer-mat) in Rostock (North Sea coast, near Lübeck)
Fried und Einigkeit (peace and unity) in Kyritz (northwest of Berlin)
Hansla (teaser?) in Bamberg, North-Central Bavaria
Hund (dog) in Bremen, Dasseln, Corvey
Hosenmilch (trouser-milk) in Dransfeld (S. of Hanover)
Broyhan Alt A very pale, all-malt middling table beer
similar to some of the northern wheat beers. In the
seventeenth century and earlier it had been a wheat beer;
by the late 1800s, it had turned into a barley beer. It is
described as having a “vinous aroma, and a salty-sour
taste.” It was brewed with a three-step infusion, with rests
for glucans, proteins, and starch conversion. An unusual
feature was a series of hop infusions, in which hops are
soaked for eight to ten hours, the hoppy liquid being used
as brewing liquor.
Single and double versions were made. Figures in
1884 showed 1.037 (8 °P) and 1.054 (13 °P) wort gravities, respectively, and those
same measurements showed lactic acid contents between 0.06 and 0.15 percent, which
is enough to taste, but not extremely sour.
O wonderful harvest beer,
you fest of Freedom and desire!
Because of your beer tap folk
wean babies from the breast!
— Song to Harvest Beer
Kotbüsser A special type of German ale, another cousin to the grand family of white
beers. It was, at least after 1877, an outlaw beer because of the addition of oats,
honey, and molasses. The name derives from Kotbüss, the town in which it was
brewed. Both single (1.032, 8 °P) and double (1.054, 13.5 °P) versions were brewed.
The recipe that follows is for 5 gallons of the double, which better suits our homebrew
palates.
Kotbüsser is a crisp, deep golden beer, moderately hopped, with just a hint of
sugary complexity from the honey and molasses. Wheat and oats give it a
monumental, near-permanent head, and contribute to the soft, creamy texture. Think
of it as an altbier with a twist.
You could bump up the flavor level of the honey and molasses by adding them to
the beer as a sort of kräusen, after primary fermentation is complete.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.055 (13° P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.5 to 5.2%
Color: Medium gold
Bitterness: 27 IBU
Yeast: German ale
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
Primary at 62 to 67° F (16.5 to 19.5° C), secondary/lagering at 40 to 45° F (4 to 7° C) for three weeks or
longer.
All-Grain Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)
57%German or Belgian Pils malt
3.5 lb (1.6 kg)
33%wheat malt
13.0 oz (369 g)
8%oatmeal
2.0 oz (57 g)
1%light molasses
2.0 oz (57 g)
1%honey
RECIPE
Kotbüsser
Traditional mash is triple decoction. Two-step would be adequate. Protein rest at 122° F (50° C) for one
hour, step up to 152° F (66.5° C) for one hour. Sparge to collect 6-7 gallons and boil for two hours, which
should reduce it down to just over 5.
Extract + Mini-Mash Recipe:
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
26%pale dry malt extract
3.5 lb (1.6 kg)
43%wheat extract syrup
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
12%U.S. six-row malt
0.5 lb (227 g)
6%pale crystal malt
13.0 oz (369 g)
10%oatmeal
2.0 oz (57 g)
1.5%light molasses
2.0 oz (57 g)
1.5%honey
Hops:
1.0 oz (28 g)
120 minTettnang (4% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
30 minTettnang (4% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
5 minTettnang (4% AA)
0.5 oz (14 g)
5 minSaaz (3% AA)
Scheps of Breslau This a beloved beer that inspired
more poetry than beers from most cities, but faded from
glory after about 1700. This would be a great project for
somebody to research. The word “schep” means
“scoop.”
Einfachbier, or Single Beer This was 3 to 4 °B, less
than 1 percent alcohol. Widely brewed, especially in the
North, but little reported in the books. Light beers were
made everywhere, usually from the last runnings of a
stronger beer. In southern Germany, it was called
hansel; in northern Germany, kofent. Abzug was another designation for low-gravity
beers.
Potsdamer Bier Brewed in nineteenth-century
Berlin,thiswheatbeerisdescribedas
luminously clear, tinged with amber, and
seasoned with cloves, coriander, and cinnamon.
Erntebier, or Harvest Beer This was a fairly
strong German ale, brewed for use during the
harvest, as a fortifier and reward for farm
workers. Gravity was 1.050 to 1.059 (12 to 14
°P). Although it was an ale, it was fermented
fairly cool and then lagered for several months. Unusual for a dark beer in Germany,
it was highly hopped, which added to its thirst-quenching qualities. This gives it
certain similarities with Düsseldorfer altbier (especially the strong sticke version),
although I can find no information about what specific malts might have been typical.
A 1682 reference gives a hop rate of approximately 0.3 ounces (9 grams) per
pound of grain, or 3.0 ounces (85 grams) per 5-gallon batch, which works out to
roughly 40 IBU.
Modern harvest beers seem to be popping up at smaller breweries all over
Germany, and are paler and weaker (surprise) than the old version. Today it seems to
be a marketing term for individual breweries rather than an actual style.
Mysterious German Local Beer Names
Israel in Lübeck
“Ich weiß nicht wie” (I do not know how) in Buxtehude
Jammer (Misery) in Ostpreussen
Junker (Squire) in Warburg (near Düsseldorf)
Kater (Wildcat/Tomcat) in Stade
Kamma (Crest or crown) in Herfort. Some of the old books refer to a “kamm’”
yeast, which the context indicates may have been like a sherry flor, which would
indeed float on top as a crown.
Keuterling in Wettin
Klatsch (Splash) or Klotscj in Jena
Klotzmilch (Block/lump/log milk) in Bautzen
Krabbelanderwand in Eisleben Krabbel an der Wand
Kniesenack in Güstrow
Kühle Blonde (Cool Blonde) The famous Berliner weisse of Berlin
Kuhschwanz (Cow-tail) in Delitz (Bohemia)
Kukuk in Wittenbe
Lorch (Larch) in Livland, a steinbier, mashed with glowing stones
Lumpenbier in Wernigerobe, south of Braunschweig
Luntsch in Erfurt
Masnotzt in Teschen, a weizenbier
Maulesel (Mule) in Jena
Menschenfett (person-fat), bestes Dorfbier (Village beer) in Jena
Moll (Minor) in Rimwegen
Mord und Totschlag (murder and homicide) in Kyritz
Plunder (plunder) in Zugenbrück
Plutzerl in Horn, Austria, near Vienna, oat beer
Pohk in Pattensen
Preussing in Jena
Puff (brothel) in Halle
Puss (fuss) in Halle, west of Leipzig
Rammenach in Glückstadt
Rammeldist in Ratzeburg
Rastrum or Raster (grid) (a brown beer) in Leipzig
Rummeldaus in Ratzeburg
Sehtdenkerl or Stähldenkerl (steel-thinker) in Hadeln
Schlagnach or Schlacknack (strike-neck) in Rügen
Schlung or Schüttelkopf (shaker-head) in Riddigshausen
Schweinepost (pig-mail) in Strassburg Austria, southeast of Salzburg
Stürzebartel (beard-fall) in Merseburg, west of Leipzig
Schepps/Scheps/Schoeps (clatter or scoop?) in Breslau, Munich
Stier (bull) in Schweidnitz
Störtenkerl (trouble-fellow) in Dornburg
Todtenkopf (deathhead, skull and crossbones) in Schöningen, east of Braunschweig
Weil es im Leibe knurrte in Dassel
Wirkt Wunder (wonder worker?) in Gehirn
Witteklaus in Kiel
Wollsack (wool-sack) in Brockhusen
Würze (spice) in Zerbst, southeast of Magdeburg, near Berlin
Zitzenmille (thousand-teat) in Naumburg, southwest of Leipzig
Zoigl in Eslarn
Again, Dr. Lintner: “Without doubt there are many other names for the national
beverage, in whose inventiveness and constant transformation the peoples humor is
inexhaustible.”
He finishes with a list of categories:
“The designations: Hausbier House beer; Zapfbier tapping beer; Krugbier jug beer;
Flaschenbier bottled beer; fassbier keg beer (in Breslau, an ordinary sort of brown
beer); Klosterbier monastery beer;Tischbier table beer; Festbier fest beer; Dorfbier
village beer; Stadtbier city beer; Füllbier filling beer; (for the topping up of the keg);
Hochzeitsbier wedding beer; Freibier free beer (tax free); Kirmesbierparish fair beer;
Kräuterbier herb beer; Kufenbier vat beer; Landbier land beer, Maibier May beer;
Morgenbier morning beer; and these explain themselves automatically, and so there
is still another quantity of folk names.”
Weizenschalenbier A top-fermenting beer brewed in Breslau, Germany, at least until
1860, that added 10 percent wheat husks to the barley malt grist. This beer gained
large distribution as a popular bottled table beer. It’s not clear what they were getting
out of the husks, as the normal use for them in the mash is as a filtering aid, usually
employed in wheat beers.
Merseburg Beer This a strong dark top-fermented ale, bittered with gentian root in
addition to hops. The only reference I have seen is from a French book (P. Boulin)
from about 1885.
German Porter Porter was such a huge phenomenon, brewers everywhere were
trying it out and adapting it to their own vernacular. Even in what we think of as a
somewhat hidebound Germany, this was happening. The information I have is from
around 1900.
Two sorts were brewed, a sweet one and a hoppy one, both at 1.071 to 1.075 (17
to 18 °P). Top-fermented and lager versions were brewed, and the color was obtained
from various mixtures of colored malt and caramel sugar. Single, double, and triple
decoctions were used, in contrast to the infusions of English versions, and this would
have given them a deep, caramelly underpinning. The highly hopped version used the
equivalent of about 4 ounces (113 grams) per 5-gallon (19 liter) batch, and was dry-
hopped. It appears as if this style may have been subsumed into the schwarzbiers of
Kostritz and Kulmbach. Wagner (1877) refers to the former as “Englisher Kostritzer,”
a hint of its British inspiration.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.048 (11.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 4.4 to 5.1%
Color: Deep amber
Bitterness: 42 IBU
Yeast: French or German ale
RECIPE
Voyage Étrange Bière dEmbarcation (Export beer, c 1800)
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
*The original recipe called for 100 percent amber malt. To hedge against the possibility that earlier amber
was paler— and more easily converted— than modern biscuit, I have included a little pale malt to make
conversion easier.
All-Malt Recipe:
5.0 lb (2.3 kg)
59%amber/biscuit malt
2.5 lb (1.1 kg)
29%pale ale malt*
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
12%raw sugar (Barbados, Muscovado, etc.) added to kettle
No mashing details were given in the original recipe, so let’s just go with a standard one hour at 150° F
(65.5° C) infusion mash.
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops:
2.0 oz (57 g)
90 minStrisselspalt (3% AA)
1.5 oz (42 g)
30 minStrisselspalt (3% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
5 minStrisselspalt (3% AA)
1.25 fl oz (37 ml)cheap brandy, added at bottling or kegging
A FEW FRENCH DELIGHTS
France is generally sniffed at by the real brewing countries, and indeed its glory
has always rested on wine, not beer. I guess the scorn is not undeserved, as a reference
around 1800 describes beers showcasing grass, coconut, parsnips, beets, potatoes,
carrots, and every form of sugar then known. If all that’s not bad enough, the same
book also described a “bastard-beer” made from cooked unmalted barley and
molasses, brewed circa 1774 to cover a shortfall in cider supplies. Overall, pretty
appalling.
Corn, Zea mays
The New World’s most important, if not most delicious, contribution to beer.
THE HORRORS OF COLONIAL ALE
We tend to picture America’s colonial days in a very romantic light. Quaint
craftsmen banging out horseshoes and silver pots, retiring to the gentlemanly confines
of a cozy tavern to puff on their pipes, quaff a few strong, malty brews, discuss
politics, and plan a revolution. Undoubtedly such reveries existed at certain times and
places, but for most settlers, things were very different.
For a start, beer was not universally available. It was unprofitable to ship from
England. The raw materials for good beer could not be grown everywhere in the
Colonies, and the infrastructure for transporting it didn’t exist. There was a lot of
interest in brewing early on, as the settlers held tightly to their beer culture.
Brewing commercially was a struggle. Well-intentioned laws either forbade the
importation of malt or prohibited malting due to scarcity, and were occasionally in
force at the same time. So what happened? Rum became the drink of choice for the
masses, as well as a standard medium of exchange, especially in New England.
Except for a few years leading up to the Whiskey Rebellion, distilled spirits were
entirely untaxed until 1861, and their cheapness, durability, and portability made them
by far the preferred drink. As a contemporary observer put it: “All drank as t’were
their mother’s milk, and not a man afraid.” Farther south in Georgia, the peaches they
have become so famous for were not used for pie, but for a fiery brandy that was the
dominant tipple there.
It was only in states such as Pennsylvania and New York, with their beer-infused
German and Dutch populations, that beer brewing existed as a serious industry. The
Dutch started early in New Amsterdam, which the English renamed New York in
1664.
If barley be wanting to make into malt,
We must be content and think it no fault,
For we can make liquor to sweeten our lips,
Of pumpkins, and parsnips, and walnut-tree chips.
— Colonial ditty
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.060 (14.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.3 to 6%
Color: Pale amber
Bitterness: 33 IBU
Yeast: English ale
Maturation: 4 to 6 weeks
*Cambium is the growing layer of the tree, just inside the bark, and has been used as a flavoring in
beverages for centuries. Quantity: 0.5 to 1 ounce (14 to 28 grams). Chopped black walnuts (1-4 ounces)
may be added to the mash instead.
All-Malt Recipe:
6.75 lb (3.1 kg)46%U.S. two-row lager malt
RECIPE
Sweet Lips Colonial Ale
2.0 lb (2.3 kg)
13.5%amber/biscuit malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
13.5%flaked corn
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
13.5%baked pumpkin (see
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
13.5%roasted parsnips (same method as pumpkin)
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
—rice hulls
This will be a goopy mash. Let it go 1.5 hours at 148° F (64.5° C), and be patient while sparging.
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops & Spices:
1.5 oz (43 g)
90 minFuggle (5% AA)
2.0 oz (57 g)
10 minwalnut leaves or cambium*
America’s unique—some would say dubious—contribution to the world of
brewing is the use of corn, more properly called maize, as an ingredient. Experiments
with corn as a beer ingredient began before 1550, almost as soon as there was brewing
in the Colonies. Thomas Heriot made this remark about maize in 1585: “The graine is
about the bignesse of our ordinary English peaze and not much different in forme and
shape: but of divers colours : some white, some red, some yellow, and some blew. All
of them yeelde a very white and sweete flowre: beeing used according to his kinde it
maketh a very good bread. Wee made of the same in the countrey some mault,
whereof was brued as good ale as was to be desired. So likewise by the help of hops
therof may bee made as good Beere.” So this goes back a ways.
Futurale
The airlock made an unconfident, shuddering noise, then beeped and opened
smoothly. Inside, lights were low and moving hypnotically across the room, little
colored balls without apparent source. There was room at the bar, so I wiggled up on
the pedestal and locked on. “Beer,” I snuffed.
“Jeepy creeps, goomer,” the bartron said. “Weegot dizzy choices. Likyalips wonnerful
beears, yessy. Firstoff, you wanna syntek or natferment?” I’d had the syntek far too
many times, and I still had a few scars on my spleen from it. Besides, all nineteen
brands of it
interplanetary
were made
H
2
O, with
by the Syllamub Brewing Company. Pure natural
refreshing “replicated” natural essences and other
undisclosed headbanger additives. Pictronic foam. The jolt just wasn’t worth it
anymore.
“Natferment, man. I’m hardcore nowtimes.”
“Oooeee, real customer, bygol. Sure. RubAlt, IPB, Eisblu, Greenie, Belgoman... Yah
we got pretty much everything.”
“Oakies?” I probed, knowing this could get me into trouble. His head clicked into
place as he scanned me at a higher res. Barrel-fermented beers were banned in a
number of colonies, but the ban was unevenly enforced. Wood was out of its element
in space, rare as flamptonite.
“Big spendee, nodowt, you are. Weeget close, maybe-maybe. Here, I show.” He
flipped around the visipad and touched the sensor with his thumb. A dazzling array of
the finest commercially made replales scrolled past: Gol Zizol Ale, Madam’s
Picklebock, Oval Rackish, Sahara Novata Palale, Relegator, Voodel; the list was
impressive, but strictly from marketing. I figured I could do better.
“I got the thirsties for some Oakie TruFerm. You know, realtime headscrew. Bugs in
it. I got the creds. Whatcha got that ain’t on the screen. Blow me up, sugar man.”
“Pay to talk, good customer.” I flipped him my credpak. He slurped out a twenty with
a gentle whir. “Welcomy bru central, myolpal.” A small panel rotated silently around
to reveal six small containers, code lights blinking softly. “Weegot Blondies, Hoppers,
and Ecstout Double X.” He winked mechanically.
“You tindog! True bugs? Hydroponic barlmalt, zopcones, the works?” He nodded. I
could see my credpak start to quiver in anticipated dessication. “Lemee start with the
Blondies and work up.”
The codelights changed pattern on one of the vaultlets; the panel flipped around again
as soon as he had it poured and stowed. It was a thinga’byootee. Class K golden color,
a dash of shimmering haze from the contraband micros. Real bubbles—from the
actual beer, far more enticing than the microholographic ones in the syntek. Ah! The
smell of real byproducts. This was as close to heaven as a sector seven transship
loopdock could ever be. I put the foaming essence to my lips.
As I did, my reverie was broken by a rough voice: “Marketing Enforcement, sector
seven-point-two. I’m Officer Adolphus, this is Officer Frederick. We need to talk to
you about that unadvertised beer...”
Beer was brewed on the plantations, but it appears to have been mostly of the
very meager small beer represented by George Washington’s crummy recipe (see
. Such beers functioned as the soda pop of their days, providing water in a safe
and quenching form, and as such they seem to have been regarded as a duty and little
else by their makers.
Although his wife Martha brewed small beer every two weeks early in their
marriage, Thomas Jefferson got interested in brewing at Monticello rather late. A
shipwrecked English brewer, Captain Joseph Miller, ended up at Jefferson’s door in
1813, and helped to set up a brewery there. An architectural plan in Jefferson’s hand
exists, but it is not known if the building was ever built.
But they were brewing beer, and as ever, TJ had higher aspirations: “I wish to see
this beverage become common instead of the whiskey which kills one third of our
citizens and ruins their families.” Records suggest that The London and Country
Brewer and Combrune’s Theory and Practise of Brewing were among his references.
By the way, The London and Country Brewer is available for downloading online if
you want to dig into it yourself.
Barley being poorly suited to Virginia’s Piedmont climate, malted wheat and
Indian corn were used. Jefferson referred to the product there as an ale rather than a
porter, suggesting it was a pale beer. One bushel of malt for 8 or 10 gallons of ale was
the normal proportion there, a little stronger than the commercial breweries produced.
It’s hard to estimate how well the grain was malted, what the mashing efficiency was,
even whatever they were using British (40 pounds, 18.1 kilograms) or American (34
pounds, 15.4 kilograms) bushels at that time, but the beers were likely in the 1.065 to
1.085 (14.5 to 20.5 °P) range. Hop rate was described as three quarters of a pound per
gallon, or 6 to 7.5 ounces (170 to 213 grams) per 5-gallon batch, which might
translate to bitterness somewhere between 40 and 70 IBU—again, with many factors
being impossible to predict. But overall, the Monticello brews were something we
would today recognize as a craft brew
PENNSYLVANIA SWANKEY
Pennsylvania was one of the great brewing states of the young country, due
largely to its population of beer-thirsty Germans. Swankey was a curious specialty
that managed to survive up until about 1900. A corruption of schwenke, meaning a
schank or light beer, swankey was a very weak beer fermented partially, then chilled
to preserve some sweetness and keep the alcohol low at around 2 percent. Original
gravity was about 1.028 (7 °P); at 1.020 (5 °P) the casks were stopped up and allowed
to prime, and then the beer was chilled and sent out to be sold. The resulting beverage
was very much like a sort of licorice root beer.
George Washington’s Small Beer
To Make Small Beer
Take a large Siffer [Sifter] full of Bran Hops to your Taste.—Boil these 3 hours then
strain out 30 Gall[ons] into a cooler put in 3 Gall[ons] Molasses while the Beer is
Scalding hot or rather draw the Melasses into the cooler & St[r]ain the Beer on it
while boiling Hot. Let this stand till it is little more than Blood warm then put in a
quart of Yea[s]t if the Weather is very Cold cover it over with a Blank[et] & let it
Work in the Cooler 24 hours then put it into the Cask—leave the bung open till it is
almost don[e] Working—Bottle it that day Week it was Brewed.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.069 (16.5° P)
Alcohol/vol: 5.2 to 6.2%
Color: Pale amber
Bitterness: 44 IBU
Yeast: English ale
Maturation: 6 to 8 weeks
All-Malt Recipe:
9.0 lb (4.1 kg)
75%pale ale malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)
17%Indian corn, ground to grits and precooked
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)
8%biscuit/amber malt
An infusion mash—1 hour at 154° F (68° C)—will work as long as the corn grits are precooked (as you
would rice), and it’s not likely that TJ and his English brewmaster were doing anything more complicated
than this. A mini-mash version can be brewed by reducing the pale malt to 2 pounds (0.90 kilograms) and
adding 4 pounds (1.8 kilograms) of pale dry malt extract to the kettle in lieu of the missing malt.
Hops:
2.0 oz (57 g)60 minU.S. Fuggle (5% AA)
1.5 oz (43 g)10 minU.S. Fuggle (5% AA)
RECIPE
Plug Nickel—Thomas Jefferson’s Pale Ale
You can brew this as a normal-strength brown ale (1.042
to 1.050, 10 to 12 °P), and for the last five minutes of the boil,
add 1 to 2 teaspoons (4 to 6 grams) of aniseed, plus 0.25 to 0.5
teaspoons (1 to 2 grams) of star anise. A small amount of
basil, caraway, and/or fennel will add complexity, although I
can’t imagine this is authentic.
“To Make Beer and Ale From Pea Shells”
“No production of this country abounds so much with vegetable saccharine
matter as the shells of green peas. A strong decoction of them so much
resembles, in odour and taste, an infusion of malt (termed wort) as to deceive a
brewer. This decoction, rendered slightly bitter with the wood sage, and
afterwards fermented with yeast, affords a very excellent beverage.
“Fill a boiler with the green shells of peas, pour on water till it rises half an
inch above the shells, and simmer for three hours. Strain off the liquor, and
add a strong decoction of the wood sage, or the hop, so as to render it
pleasantly bitter; then ferment in the usual manner. The wood sage is the best
substitute for hops, and being free from any anodyne property, is entitled to a
preference. By boiling a fresh quantity of shells in the decoction before it
becomes cold, it may be so thoroughly impregnated with saccharine matter, as
to afford a liquor, when fermented as strong as ale.”
— Mackenzie’s Five Thousand Receipts, Philadelphia, l829
KENTUCKY COMMON BEER
This is a top-fermenting everyday-beer that was popular up and down the Ohio
River in the vicinity of Louisville. Little is known of its makeup. As the Wahl-Henius
Handy Book describes it, “Its color is dark, being about the same as that of average
Bavarian [dunkel] beers. The beer should possess a pronounced malt flavor, be full to
the palate, of somewhat sweet taste, and mild in character.”
Gravity was light to medium, at 1.040-1.055 (10 to 12.5 °P). It was brewed from
25 to 35 percent corn adjuncts in addition to pale malt, and colored with black and
caramel malts, but cooked sugar (caramel) was also employed. Hopping was light, at
0.5 to 0.75 pounds per barrel, which works out to 1.25 to 2 ounces per 5 gallons (38 to
57 grams per 19 liters), about half the amount used for stock ales of the day.
Kentucky common was fermented with the addition of some “rod” bacteria that
introduced some souring. This was specified as an ale yeast containing about 2
percent bacteria, otherwise “this taste would become too pronounced, which not alone
would make the product obnoxious, but also endanger its brilliancy and stability.” The
Brewery Tray, c. 1910
This regional style was in decline by this point, and never made it past Prohibition.
fermentation was carried out at 68 to 70° F (20 to 21° C) over a period of about a
week.
Although this style died out commercially long ago, the Bluegrass brewing
company in Louisville has brewed it anew, as have some homebrewers.
Chapter 18
S
AVE THE
B
EES!
A BIT ABOUT HONEY
Honey is the concentrated nectar of flowers made by bees for
use as a storable form of food for the hive. The high water
content is one of the things that makes it stable; few organisms
can survive the immense osmotic pressure of such a strong
solution of sugar. Honey also has anti-microbial chemical
properties, and this provides an extra challenge for the would-be
meadmaker.
The type of flower from which the nectar is collected
determines the character of the honey, and there is a huge range
available. Honey may be nearly clear to seriously brown;
however, the color is not an accurate gauge of flavor intensity. The specific gravity is
1.41, or in brewer’s terms, 1.410, which translates to 11 pounds, 12 ounces per gallon;
2 pounds, 11 ounces per quart; or 1.4 kilograms per liter. A pound of honey will
contribute between 1.0070 to 1.0075 OG (1.7 to 1.8 °P) to a 5-gallon (19 liter) batch,
although some types may be as high as 1.0079 or as low as 1.0064.
Many scholars believe mead may have been the first fermented beverage. And the
fact that the same Indo-European root word, medhu, means “honey,” “sweet,” and
“drunkenness” is further evidence for this. Honey won’t ferment in its natural
concentrated form, but as soon as it is diluted—when combs are washed out, for
example—it starts to ferment. There is, in fact, no ancient technology capable of
stopping it more than temporarily. With no cooking or crushing needed, it’s the
simplest alcoholic beverage to make, and probably appeared just as soon as humans
created something to put it in. The rock art of one Neolithic society, at Tassili-n-Ajjer
in Algeria, prominently features a zoomorphic “bee-man,” which is suggestive of their
familiarity with the other sort of buzz that bees create. Never mind the fact that he is
covered head-to-toe with magic mushrooms as well.
This buzz is not always simply from alcohol. Many plants with toxic and/or
psychoactive components exude them in their nectar, which is then concentrated by
the bees into a kind of narcotic honey that Pliny the Elder called meli mœnomenon, or
“mad honey.” Datura, belladonna, cannabis, wild rosemary, rhododendron, and a large
number of tropical plants are capable of producing mind-altering honey, and the
ethnobotanical connections for many psychoactive honeys are well documented.
Fortunately, such honeys are rare, and pose little danger (or opportunity) for mad
meadmakers.
Despite its great antiquity, mead has only rarely been an everyday drink, and has
never been industrialized on any significant scale. It was either, as with the Beaker
Culture or the Vikings, the strong drink of warriors and other elite, or a quaint country
beverage made and enjoyed in the boondocks. In fact, mead can’t ever be
commercialized on the scale of beer because honey is really a minor by-product of
agriculture or the local ecosystem, and getting more honey isn’t simply a matter of
plowing up more fields. Even if there is a good quantity available, there is the issue of
consistency, as the flowering of plants is quite seasonal, making honey dramatically
different from month to month. That means more fun for us homebrewers, but not
something to build a national distribution system around.
Mead comes in a variety of subtypes. Most kinds may be made either sweet or
dry, and still, sparkling, or in-between. The level of sweetness is controlled by adding
sugar (honey) to the point where yeast can’t handle it and give up. For this reason,
natural carbonation is not feasible, so sweet meads are usually made in the still style.
The amount of sugar that yeast can handle depends on the yeast type, but it’s between
13 and 20 pounds of honey in a 5-gallon batch.
The close connection with agriculture means that mead was usually made from
the local honey du jour, dolled up with whatever else was available in the
neighborhood: herbs, fruit, and/or grains. Since mead has never had much commercial
importance, very little about it was ever recorded in books, which means our sources
for creative inspiration are pretty limited except to try to imagine the settings in which
it was brewed, what the possibilities could have been, and go from there.
Honey Beverage Types
Braggot
Any combination of honey and malt
Brochet
Mead made from honey that has been boiled down and darkened; “burnt sack mead”
Cyser
Mead and apple cider fermented together
Eismead
Made by removing ice from partially frozen mead, concentrating alcohol and flavors. Considered distillation
by the federal government, and technically illegal.
Hippocras
Mead fermented with grapes or grape juice, and spices
Hydromel
Lighter-gravity, or “small” mead
Mead
The generic term covering all forms, or more specifically, made from honey alone
Melomel
Mead fermented with fruit or fruit juice
Metheglin
Mead flavored with herbs and/or spices
Miodomel
Hopped mead
Pyment
Mead made with grapes or grape juice (or raisins)
Sack Mead
Heavy sweet mead with Sherry (sack) characteristics
Weirdomel
Non-traditional mead made with unusual ingredients. See Atomic Fireball Mead recipe.
The Honey Bee, Apis Mellifera
The start of it all.
A FEW TECHNICALITIES
Mead is much easier to make than beer. Older recipes recommended boiling the
honey and water mix (or must); newer recipes recommend heating it just to
pasteurization temperature (145 to 150° F or 63 to 65.5° C) and holding it for thirty
minutes before cooling and pitching. Modern thinking suggests that even this gentler
cooking is unnecessary, plus it can drive off a lot of desirable aromatics.
Honey is loaded with sugar, but like a continuous diet of candy bars, yeast need
more than sugar to be healthy. Unlike beer wort, which is a rich stew of nourishment,
honey is barren. Minor nutrients like amino acids, lipids, vitamins, and trace minerals
are missing. A good yeast nutrient will provide them easily, but they are not all
created equal. Some types are simply forms of soluble nitrogen (di-ammonium
phosphate); others are made from yeast or a mix of chemicals and have a greater
range of benefits to offer. Quantities are important, so be sure to follow the
manufacturer’s instructions.
A Few Honey Varieties
Acacia
Ultra pale, lightly fruity, tropical hints
Alfalfa
Extremely pale color, delicate flavor
Basswood
Complex and elegant, hints of cedary wood
Blueberry
Delicate, fruity
Buckwheat
Dark and very intense; malty, molasses character
Clover
Familiar middle-of-the-road flavor
Cranberry
Bright and fruity, hints of floral perfume
Fireweed
Very pale; delicate, tea-like, with buttery overtones
Heather
Pale, yet intense, resinous; gel-like thixatropic properties
Orange
Blossom
Floral and perfumey, hints of orange blossoms
Sage
Three varieties of varying color; all have an elegant floral character
Snowberry
Delicate, complex, perfumey
Tupelo
Complex floral/fruity flavors; high in fructose
Wildflower
Highly variable, but often strongly flavored; may also originate from soybeans or other unglamorous
crop
New Zealand offers some interesting honeys. Here, Tawari, which has a lingering
buttery flavor; and Kamahi, with a full-bodied complexity.
From a flavor standpoint, two other major things are missing from honey: acidity
and tannins. These don’t affect fermentation in a huge way, but mead without them
can taste flat, thin, and, as they say in the wine world, flabby. When fruit juice or pulp
is incorporated, it often adds both acidity and tannin, but sometimes the mead still
needs to be adjusted to get the proper flavor. With pure meads, acid is usually needed
to balance any residual sweetness, and a little grape tannin may be used to add
structure. It is best to do this after fermentation. This avoids the creation of conditions
that are too acidic for the yeast, and allows you to better determine the sweetness of
the finished mead, and therefore how much acid (and maybe tannin) is needed to
create a balanced flavor. Tartaric, malic, and citric acids may be used, or a
commercial mixture called “winemaker’s acid blend.”
To avoid wild yeast contamination, the mead can be either pasteurized by heating
or dosed with sulfite prior to fermentation. Older recipes direct you to boil the must,
which is no longer recommended because it drives off a lot of important aroma
compounds. Pasteurization is a gentler heating—thirty minutes at 145 to 150° F (63 to
65.5° C)—and is sufficient to kill any wild yeast present. If the sulfite method is used,
Campden tablets are the typical means; dosing is between three and eight tablets per
5-gallon batch, depending on pH. They are simply added to the honey and water and
allowed to stand overnight before pitching the culture yeast.
There are mead-specific yeasts, although any ale or wine yeast can be used. Ale
yeasts are less tolerant of alcohol, and will start to produce a sweet mead at about 10
percent alcohol (13 pounds per 5 gallons). Wine or Champagne yeast may go as high
as 16 to 19 percent before slowing down and allowing unfermented sugar to remain.
Because of its antibiotic properties, mead fermentations tend to go slowly. And
because mead strengths tend to be higher than beer, relatively long aging is required
for a mellow and mature product. For a mead of 10 percent alcohol, a year is about the
minimum.
Mead made without heat pasteurization may take longer to clear, and may even
require the use of a fining agent like gelatin. Or, if you’re planning a long aging and
can deal with sediment, just let time do its thing. Racking a few times can also speed
things up.
Campden Tablet Dosing by Must* pH
pHNo. Tablets/5 gallons
3.03
3.24
3.45
3.66
3.88
Based on 75 ppm free SO per tablet per gallon
2
*Must is the term for unfermented wine or mead
Typical Honey Analysis
Component%
Water17.1
Glucose31.0
Fructose38.2
Maltose7.2
Longer sugars4.2
Sucrose1.5
Minerals, vitamins, enzymes0.5
Fruit is lovely in mead—melomel, actually—and the techniques are much the
same as for fruit beers (Chapter 13). One thing to pay attention to is the amount of
acidity in the finished melomel, as the fruit can taste lifeless without enough acidity.
You can take a conservative stab at adding some acid blend—mix, taste, then add
more if it seems to need it. Or you can conduct a small-scale test, using a known
solution of acid dosed with a pipette calibrated in 0.10 milliliters into a small (1 ounce
or 25 milliliter) sample. Once you determine the correct amount of acid per ounce,
just scale up to the full batch size.
Mead is most often bottled, although it is possible to put it on draft just like
homebrewed beer. Still (non-sparkling) mead can be dosed with potassium sorbate,
which will prevent fermentation from restarting. This is usually done in combination
with sulfite, as sorbate does not inhibit malolactic bacteria, which can produce gas and
off flavors in a closed environment like a bottle. Wait until fermentation has ceased
and mead has dropped clear before bottling, and add 2.5 teaspoons of potassium
sorbate at that time. The sulfite chart is above.
Sparkling mead can be put up just like beer, although for Champagne-like
sparkle, carbonation levels need to be four to six times higher. Note that heavy
sparkling wine bottles are needed for this; regular beer bottles can’t handle that kind
of pressure. Sparkling wine is disgorged, a process that starts when the yeast is
induced to settle onto the caps of bottles stored inverted. The neck of the bottles are
frozen in a brine solution, then turned upright and uncapped, shooting the plug of
yeast out. The bottles are corked or capped, and the mead can be served sparkling
clear, unmarred by muddy sediment.
Neolithic Cave Painting, c. 6000 B.C.E.
This image of a honey gatherer from Cueva La Araña, near Valencia, Spain, may be the
earliest image of humans interacting with bees.
MEAD, GLORIOUS MEAD
An Arabic medicinal mead Although alcohol is forbidden in contemporary Islam,
this was not always so. In fact, the very word, al-kohl, is Arabic, and distilling reached
Europe through the Islamic world.
The following mead recipe is loosely based on a beverage described in a
medieval medicinal text, the Aqrabadhin, attributed to Al-Kindi in the ninth century.
The drink as he describes it is more of a flavored syrup, as he advises to mix grape
juice and honey, then boil it down to half its volume. This mix is then spiced and
bottled for immediate use. In its original form it appears to have been non-alcoholic.
The base of this recipe was originally a cooked grape juice, or must. Although
aromatic grapes are somewhat out of favor today except as sweet dessert wines,
perfumed varieties such as Muscat were treasured in ancient times—up until a century
or two ago. Concentrated muscat juice is available from home winemaking suppliers.
Yield: 5 U.S. gallons (19 liters)
RECIPE
Call Me Al —an Islamically Inspired Mead
Gravity: 1.104 (25 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 10 to 13% (depending on yeast)
Yeast: Mead
Maturation: 6 to 10 months
Rather than recommend something unpalatable to modern tastes, I am reworking it into something
inspired by Al-Kindi, rather than directly from his hand.
10.0 lb (4.5 kg)
orange blossom honey
46.0 fl oz (1.4 L)
muscat juice concentrate
0.5 oz (14 g)
winemakers acid blend
Plus 0.1 oz (3 g) each, coarsely crushed and placed in a hop bag: green or white cardamom; black
cardamom*; cinnamon (true Ceylon cinnamon, see p. 160); cloves; long pepper (Piper longum; substitute
black pepper or grains of paradise, see p. 162 & 275). Place this in the kettle at the end of the
pasteurization, and allow to steep in the hot must for 10 minutes
After primary fermentation, saffron is added. The original recipe called for 0.3 oz (9 g) of saffron—a
king’s ransom from your local grocery store—and pretty overwhelming. One gram ought to add plenty of
saffron flavor.
* Known in medieval days as “greater cardamom,” it’s available from Indian markets. The pods are twice the size of ordinary cardamom and
have a chocolate brown color. It has a strong, smoky, astringent taste. You might want to cut the quantity down by half or so.
Black Cardamom, Amomum subulatum (See above recipe)
More astringent and pungent than ordinary green or white cardamom.
Dwojniak Mead This is a Polish specialty made from a 1:1 mixture of honey and
water, and aged for five to seven years. Honey contains osmophilic strains of yeast
(Zygosaccharomyces), which can only ferment solutions between 50 and 82 percent
sugar, and this is used in making dwojniak. The resulting mead is very sweet, with a
deep toasty complexity and a sherry-like aroma. Another Polish sweet mead called
trojniak is made with twice as much water (1:2) and fermented with Malaga yeast. It
matures in three years. Cornflower honey is the preferred variety.
“Mjød” is the Scandinavian version of the word mead, and can mean different
beverages according to context. More recently the term has referred to a low-gravity
commercially brewed specialty item that is popular around Christmas. This is a
middle-of-the-road interpretation; current artisanal products can be as high as 19-
percent alcohol by volume. Alcohol-free versions that also included malt were once
made many decades ago by brewers at holiday time. If you can’t find Spalt, use
Tettnang hops. Half a pound of cooked sugar or caramelized honey (see p. 198) may
be used in place of the crystal malt.
Swedish Label, mid 1900s
The honey and Viking connection is proudly maintained.
Mead, a German recipe, 1898 “Add 2.1 liters (14.3 pounds) honey to 5 gallons of
water, and add (unspecified amounts) hops, coriander, sage, nutmeg, pinks (Dianthus
armeria), cinnamon, and galangal.” Spices were placed in a cloth bag and suspended
in the mead for a few weeks. Other recipes of the same time period included pepper
and grains of paradise.
Yield: 5 U.S. gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.100 (24 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 10 to 13% (depending on yeast)
Bitterness: 23 IBU
RECIPE
Mjød
Yeast: Mead
Maturation: 6 to 10 months
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)
honey, added to kettle for full boil
0.5 lb (227 g)
pale crystal malt, steeped, then removed before the boil
0.75 oz (23 g)
citric acid, added to kettle
10.0 lb (4.5 kg)
honey, added to kettle as soon as boil is finished
Hops:
1.5 oz (43 g)
60 min
Spalt (4% AA)
1.5 oz (43 g)
end of boil
Spalt (4% AA)
Yeast nutrient, per manufacturer’s instructions.
Miodomel A medieval Polish hopped mead, the specialty of the monks of Saint Basil.
Since this is all we know about it, we’re free to concoct whatever sort of beer fits that
description. We’ll be looking at barley wine strength and barley wine hopping, except
there’s no malt in it. A modern interpretation might be to use 15 pounds of a medium-
intensity honey such as clover or tupelo, and 2 to 4 ounces of Polish Lublin
(substitute: Saaz) hops. Boil a couple of pounds of honey with the hops, using half in
the full boil for bitterness, and the other half tossed in at the end of the boil for aroma.
A few ounces of a cooked sugar (p. 198) may be used to add an ancient amber glow.
This mead will require a couple of years to come into its own. It may be improved by
giving it some exposure to toasted oak, easy to handle in the form of winemaker’s
cubes or chips (see p. 91).
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.125 (25 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 10 to 13% (depending on yeast)
Yeast: Mead
Maturation: 6 to 10 months
RECIPE
Chuck’s Atomic Fireball Mead
Made by Chuck Boyce of the Bloatarian Brewing League in Cincinnati, and the damndest thing I ever
tasted. Sounds just awful, but tastes really good.
15.0 lb (6.8
kg)
lightly flavored honey such as clover
50
Atomic Fireball jawbreakers, soaked in hot water overnight, then added to water in kettle
and dissolved before the honey is added
1 to 2 boxes
Celestial Seasonings Red Zinger tea (for color), added at the end of pasteurization and
allowed to steep for 10 minutes
1.0 oz (28
g)
cinnamon oil, added to the secondary or at bottling
For an extra kick, a little cayenne pepper may be added.
Herb Tea Mead There are a large number of commercially made herb and spiced teas
out there that have great-tasting combinations of flavorings that can be showcased
well in an elegantly simple mead. Three to ten teabags per batch would probably be
appropriate, and these could be added to the mix during pasteurization, or if you’re
doing the cold-prep method, then make the tea first and add it to the honey and the
rest of the water before fermentation. Earl Grey tea contains bergamot, an exotic
citrus fruit. It makes an excellent tea mead.
BRAGOT AND OTHER HONEYED BEERS
Honey as a fortifier for beer goes all the way back to the beginning of brewing, in
the ancient Near East. It is mentioned in the Hymn to Ninkasi, the praise-poem that is
actually a fairly detailed brewing procedure, although there is some possibility that the
word “honey” in this context may also refer to date syrup. The Hymn was used several
years ago as a guide in the brewing of an ancient beer, a project involving Anchor’s
Fritz Maytag and Sumerian scholars Miguel De Civil and Solomon Katz.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.120 (29 °P)
RECIPE
Crancrabapple Mead
Alcohol/vol: 10 to 13%
Yeast: Epernay Champagne yeast
Maturation: 6 to 10 months
15.0 lb (4.5 kg)
Cranberry (or blueberry) honey
5.0 to 8.0 lb (2.3 to 3.6 kg)
Crabapples, frozen then thawed (to soften the texture)
This recipe solves the problem of the lack of acidity and tannin in honey, as crabapples have them both in
spades. Fermented bone dry, then carbonated very highly, the overall impression is of a blanc de noirs
Champagne, a white wine made from red grapes, and displaying a soft, fleshy blush. This recipe works
equally well with cranberries substituted for the crabapples. A gallon of pressed-out juice of either fruit
may be used if you have access to a press.
American Label, c. 1938
Despite the name, it’s unclear whether this beer had any honey in it. Honey has rarely
been a part of mainstream beers.
Moving forward a thousand years or so, we find ourselves in Phrygia, in what is
now Turkey, circa 700 B.C.E. In 1957, King Midas’ tomb was found intact, with the
remains of a grand funerary feast still intact. Recently, the University of
Pennsylvania’s Patrick McGovern ran scrapings of the drinking vessels through a
chromatograph and found markers for wine, beer, and honey all in the same vessel,
suggesting a mixed beverage. Sam Calagione of Dogfish Head Brewery worked with
McGovern to reinvent a recipe for this ancient brew, and that beer is now a regular
commercial product called Midas Touch.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.080 (19 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 8.6 to 10%
Yeast: Wine
Maturation: 4 to 6 months
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
30.5% pale malt
1.5 lb (0.68 kg)
11.5% amber/biscuit malt
Add to brew kettle at the end of the boil:
4.0 lb (1.8 kg)
30.5% light-flavored honey, preferably from some old-world plant—sage?
46 fl oz (1.4 L)
27.5% muscat grape concentrate
RECIPE
“Phunny You Don’t Look Phrygian” Raisin Honey Beer
Beers fortified with honey often share a similar ancient
Irish (brach) or Welsh (brag, bragio) root word meaning “to
sprout.” This leads to many words for honey beer: bragget,
bragaut, brackett, bragot, and bragawd. The fact that the
word refers to the grain portion of the beverage attests to the
great antiquity of honey beers. Chemical analysis of the
residue found in a birch-bark bucket buried with a woman
more than three thousand years ago at Egtved in the Jutland
region of Denmark showed signs of the presence of honey,
wheat, cranberries, and the fruit of the bog myrtle shrub.
The Roman historian Cornelius Tacitus (C.E. 55 to 117), reported that the
Germanic people: “... lie on bear skins and drink mead or beer brewed with honey
from large drinking horns. They can bear hunger and cold weather easily, but not the
thirst.”
Bronze Situla, c. 700 B.C.E.
This was used to dip King Midas’ drink from the royal cauldron.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.100 (24 °P)
RECIPE
Bronze Age Bragot
Alcohol/vol: 12 to 13.5%
Yeast: Wine
Maturation: 8 to 12 months
All Malt Recipe:
8.0 lb (3.6 kg) 47%
malted wheat
8.0 lb (3.6 kg) 47%
cranberry honey
kg)
1.0 lb (0.456%
six-row lager malt
Extract Recipe:
6.0 lb (2.7 kg) 43%
liquid wheat malt extract
8.0 lb (3.6 kg) 57%
cranberry honey
Spices:
0.1 oz (3 g)
60 min
bog myrtle
1
End of boil
wintergreen Lifesaver, plus a few drops of liquid smoke (to simulate the
effect of the birch bark)
6.0 lb (2.7 kg) cranberries, frozen then thawed (to soften the texture), and added to the secondary. These
should remain in the mead for 2 to 4 weeks. Then, rack the mead off into another carboy and allow it to
drop clear. A half-gallon of pure cranberry juice may be used instead of the whole fruit, in which case it
is simply added to the secondary.
Bronze Age Bragot The crud scraped out of that bucket
doesn’t give us as much information as we’d really like, but
it’s enough to cook up something pretty tasty. I’ve used
cranberry honey before, and it has a really nice fruitiness. It
stands to reason that where there are cranberries, there is
cranberry honey. This will be a little on the strong side,
suitable for a journey to the next world. In the Bronze Age,
this obviously wouldn’t have been carbonated, so to be
authentic, you’d want to serve this flat. Authenticity isn’t
everything, so feel free to put it into whatever kind of
condition you see fit.
Other appropriate herbs are meadowsweet and heather, both of which were
known to have been used by Northern people in ancient times.
I have not specified smoked malt, although it is likely that Bronze Age wheat
malt would have been at least a little smoky. If you want to add this authentic touch,
then skip the wintergreen candy and smoke some of the malt over a birch fire. Be sure
to use the bark as well as the wood, as they still do in the brewing of the rustic
Swedish beer, gotlandsdrickå.
Welsh Bragawd As time flowed on, honey became more of a marginal player in beer.
The one final famous incarnation of it was in Wales. From ancient times the Welsh
were famous for their honey beer, bragawd, and this lasted right up until the Industrial
Revolution, when most of the rustic old-time brews faded away. By 1800, the recipes
for Welsh ale include no honey (see p. 274). A Welsh ode to a drinking horn recounts
in 1056:
Cup-bearer, when I want thee most,
With duteous patience mind my post,
Reach me the horn, I know its power
Acknowledged in the social hour;
Hirlas,* thy contents to drain,
I feel a longing e’en to pain;
Pride of the feasts, profound and blue.**
Of the ninths wave’s azure hue,
The drink of heroes formed to hold,
Wih art enrich’d and lid of gold!
Fill it with bragawd to the brink,
Confidence inspiring drink.
But as famous as it was, I can’t find anything like a recipe for Welsh bragawd, so
if you want to make one, you’ll just have to get creative.
English Bragot John Bickerdyke*** (1888) did a lot of research and concluded that,
“To define bragot with any degree of preciseness would be as difficult as to give an
accurate definition of ‘soup.’” He does come up with an old recipe for a honey and
spice infused beer, which is supposed to originate in the fourteenth century, but by the
language appears to be circa 1500:
‘Take to x galons of ale iij potell of fyne wort, and iij quartis of hony,
and put thereto canell [cinnamon] oz: 111j, peper schort or long oz:
111j, galingale oz: i, and clowys [cloves] oz i, and gingiver oz ij”
In modern terms, the following quantities would make a 5-gallon batch: 2.3
gallons (8.7 liters) ale, 2.6 gallons (9.8 liters) wort, 2 pounds (0.90 kilograms) honey.
But to brew it in a more rational way, see above.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.104 (24.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 10.5 to 11.5%
Color: Deep brownish amber
Yeast: Alcohol-tolerant English ale
Maturation: 8 to 12 months
All-Malt (& Honey) Recipe:
12.0 lb (5.4 kg)60%
amber/biscuit malt
6.0 lb (2.7 kg)30%
pale malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)10%
honey, added to secondary
Spices, added to the secondary:
0.8 oz (23g)
each: cinnamon, plus black or long pepper (see below, and p. 162 & 275)
0.8 oz (22 g)
chopped candied ginger
0.2 oz (6 g)
each: galingale, cloves
RECIPE
An English Bragot, c. 1500
As this was made with ale, hops would not have been used. If you want them for their preservative value,
add 0.5 ounce of a low-alpha English hop such as East Kent Golding, for a one-hour boil.
Long Pepper, Piper longum
This relative of black pepper was once quite popular as a culinary spice in Europe.
Available at Indian markets. Shown a little over twice life size.
This form of bragot was popular in London during the mid-
sixteenth century. In other recipes, mace and nutmeg replace the
pepper and galingale. There were various methods for making
bragot. The simplest involved adding the honey to the fermented
ale, and suspending the spices in a bag in the barrels. Another
approach was to re-boil the already fermented ale with the new
wort and honey, which seems like a uselessly cumbersome
process unless you were trying to save an ale that was going
sour. Bragot/bracket was sometimes made entirely with
unfermented wort and spices, which would have produced a
very sweet beverage. Bragot survived until the mid-nineteenth
century in Lancashire and then winked out, not to return until the explosion of
homebrewing and craft brewing in the last twenty years.
A FEW MORE HONEY BEERS
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.068 (16 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 7.5 to 8.5% (depending on yeast)
Color: Deep chestnut brown
Bitterness: 38 IBU
Yeast: Belgian ale, perhaps saison
Maturation: 4 to 6 months
This next recipe is inspired by references to Dutch beers a few hundred years ago, although they used
buckwheat with no honey. It should have a deep chestnut color and a rocky, cream-colored head. This
should be fermented at a reasonably warm temperature (70 to 76° F).
All-Grain (& Honey) Recipe:
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)25%
flaked spelt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)17%
six-row malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)17%
biscuit malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)8%
chocolate malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg)8%
buckwheat, toasted 20 minutes at 300° F (see p. 224)
0.5 lb (227 g)—
rice hulls
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)25%
buckwheat honey, added to the kettle at the end of the boil
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops & Spices:
l.5oz (43 g)
90 min
Northdown (6.5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
end of boil
coriander, crushed
0.25 oz (7 g)
end of boil
caraway, crushed
0.1oz (3 g)
end of boil
cardamom seeds, crushed
RECIPE
Buckwheat Honey Black Beer
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.100 (24 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 10 to 11% (depending on yeast)
Color: Medium gold
Bitterness: 36 IBU
Yeast: German weizen
Maturation: 6 to 10 months
This will be a good vehicle to show off the honey, so pick a variety with a pleasing and delicate aroma
and a pale color. The honey will add a nice aroma and cut the thickness of the wheat.
All-Malt (& Honey) Recipe:
11.5 lb (5.2 kg)70%
wheat malt
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)12%
six-row lager malt
3.0 lb (1.4 kg)18%
honey, added at end of boil
For an extract recipe, substitute 9.5 lb (4.3 kg) of liquid wheat extract for the malts.
Hops:
2.0 oz (57 g)
60 min
Tettnang (4% AA)
1.5 oz (42 g)
30 min
Tettnang (4% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
end of boil
Tettnang (4% AA)
0.1 oz (3 g)
end of boil
lemon zest
RECIPE
“A Perfect Ten” Wheaten Honeywine
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.100 (24 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 9.5 to 11%
RECIPE
Ruby You Hot Little... Schwarzbracket
Color: Deep-ruby brown
Bitterness: 23 IBU
Yeast: Bavarian lager
Maturation: 8 to 12 months
All-Malt (& Honey) Recipe:
9.0 lb (4.1 kg)81%
Munich malt
2.0 oz (57 g)1%
black patent malt
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 9%
honey, cooked down to a medium amber color (see p. 198)
1.0 lb (0.45 kg) 9%
strongly flavored honey, added to secondary
No Equivalent Extract Recipe
Hops:
2.5 oz (71 g)60 min Hallertau (3.5% AA)
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.133 (32.5 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 13 to 14.5%
Color: Tawny amber
Bitterness: 23 IBU
Yeast: Sherry or Madeira
Maturation: 12 to 18 months
This recipe can also be made with caramelized honey (see p. 198), sugar, or malt extract augmenting or
replacing the crystal malt.
This will be a hopped bracket, using a small amount of crystal malt and no other grain. Place 2 to 3
gallons of cold water in the brew kettle.
2.0 lb (0.90 kg)12%medium crystal malt, as per steeped-grain procedure
RECIPE
Crystal Malt Old Bracket
14.0 lb (6.4 kg)88%moderately full-flavored honey, added at end of boil
Over the course of 45 minutes, slowly bring the pot to a boil, pulling the grain bags out shortly before
boiling, then squeezing and draining any remaining malt juice back into the kettle.
Hops:
2.0 oz (57 g)
90 min
Challenger (7.5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
30 min
Challenger (7.5% AA)
1.0 oz (28 g)
end of boil
Challenger (7.5% AA)
For an authentic old-ale character, add a packet of Brettanomyces culture after the primary is finished.
This will be a strong mead that will require a minimum of a year’s aging—five would probably be a lot
better. Bottle this uncarbonated.
_________
* name of the horn
** referring to the silver from which it was made
*** The pen name for three English authors of The Curiosities of Ale and Beer:
Charles Cook, J.G. Fennel, and an unknown clergyman.
Chapter 19
D
ON’T
T
RY
T
HIS
A
LONE
THE GLORY OF BREW CLUBS
One of the great pleasures of homebrewing
is its social aspect. Like a magic magnet, it
draws interesting, passionate people into its
foamy vortex. If you’ve been brewing for a
while, you probably know what I mean. If
you’re new to the hobby, I urge you to get in
touch with other brewers through your local
homebrew shop, the American Homebrewers
Association (find them at
,
or by searching online for a club in your area.
Even if you’re not generally a “joiner,” you may find in a homebrew club the
kind of warmth and easy familiarity the Germans call Gemütlichkeit. It’s certainly
been my experience.
One brewer, in a kitchen or garage, can make beer equal to the best commercial
brews, which is a pretty good achievement. But if you put a group of brewers
together, even more amazing things can happen.
American Homebrewers Association
The national club. Find them at
Club Activities
Featured Beer
Style
Commercial and homebrewed versions are compared, and the history
and style guidelines are reviewed.
Crystal Malt
Tasting
Many different varieties are laid out for tasting.
Invite a Local
Brewer
Who’s going to turn down free beer? Most of these guys brewed at
home before going pro.
Equipment
Party
A group build for wort chillers, keg kettles, or other gear. Rent a TIG
welder if anybody knows how to use it.
Beer & Food
Pairings
Cheese, chocolate, salsa—there are so many possibilities.
Mashing
Demo
Just to show people it’s nothing to be afraid of.
New Brewer
Day
Brew class and demo of brewing for the novices.
Bad Beer
Tasting
Have people save their bad beers.
Local Beer
Historian
Many cities have somebody who really knows about the local
brewing tradition. You might even make a replica beer to serve.
Judging
Practice
Have judging forms and style guides available. More experienced
judges should be paired with newer ones.
Local Water
Workshop
Work out ways to treat the local water for different beer styles.
Yeast
Culturing
Demo
Plating, making slants, culturing from bottles— there’s a lot to do.
Invite a Beer
Author
Most of them enjoy talking to homebrewers, and I’ve never heard of
anyone charging a fee, but travel expenses may need to be paid.
Brewers Open
House
Several people with interesting systems or methods all brew
simultaneously, and people go from house to house checking things
out. End the day with a potluck or pizza.
Homebrew
Invitational
A competition in which identical kits of ingredients are given to some
of the better (and better known) brewers in the area, who then brew
beers for a walkaround competition. Other brewers who wish to enter
may purchase the kit. The usual rule is that brewers don’t have to use
everything in the kit, but must also incorporate a set quantity of a
specialty ingredient, which can be grain, vegetable matter, a box of
breakfast cereal, candy, and so on. Loads of fun.
Hop Variety
Smell-Off
Assemble many different hop varieties for a walkaround sniffing.
Malt Roasting
Demo
Run through a number of different times and temperatures, and taste
the results. Send the grains home to be brewed and have a tasting
when the beers are ready.
Sugar
Cookdown
Sugar is cooked in a heavy pan until it darkens (see p. 198) for use as
a brewing ingredient. Flavors and colors are compared. Honey and
malt extract may be treated this way, too.
Sugar Tasting
Gather a number of different sugars, and lay them out for tasting. For
Clubs, Clubs, Clubs
While the largest cities tend to have the largest clubs, active and sophisticated clubs can
be found all around the country.
part two, brewers can take sugars home and brew with them, then
bring the finished beers back a few months later for tasting.
Smoked Malt
Tasting
People smoke malt with different woods, and for different times.
Compare the results in a walkaround format.
Judge Exam
Preparation
Review beer styles and brewing technique. You have to drink to get
the styles, so it’s a pretty fun study hall.
GREAT BIG BARRELS O’ BEER
Whiskey Barrel Beers The idea of aging a strong
beer in a bourbon barrel originated with a group of
suburban Chicago homebrewers, although it has
come to be the rage among the avante-micro crowd.
Now it even has its own festival.
First, obtain a recently used bourbon barrel.
Since these 50-gallon charred oak containers can’t
be reused for bourbon, they’re fairly cheap. Most
are disassembled and shipped off to Scotland,
Mexico, and the Caribbean to age whiskey, tequila,
and rum, but they find uses here, split into planters
or sawn up into bulky barstools. The Internet is a good source, but if you’re within
striking distance, a road trip to bourbon country can be fascinating and fun. If your
barrel is somewhat dried out, you may want to refresh it by adding a bottle of
inexpensive but respectable bourbon. Line up enough brewers to produce 53 gallons
(plus a little more for topping up occasionally) of stout. Everyone can brew
separately, or can gang up on brew day for one massive assault. Strongly flavored
beers such as strong stout, barley wine or imperial pale ale can best stand up to the
rich bourbon and vanilla flavors the cask will contribute. Let the separate batches of
beer ferment out through the primary before adding to the barrel. Then fill it up and
let it age. Make sure it is on solid footings, because it will be very heavy when full.
After a few months, have everyone assemble for a massive bottling party, or just rack
off the stout into soda kegs and enjoy something wonderful.
Barley Wine Solera This is just a way to procure a supply of blended ancient and
new barley wine. Obtain a large demijohn or barrel, from 15 to 50 gallons. As in
above, brewers rotate brew duty. There are two rules: One, the vessel must be kept
full, or oxygen will allow vinegar bacteria and/or mold to spoil the beer; and two, the
beer must be at least a certain gravity, which in my opinion should be ridiculously
high. Give this beer a special name, make ritual offerings to it on beer holidays—
worship it, really—and serve it only for very special occasions. The result will be
very, very fine, and sharing a beer is guaranteed to hold a group together.
You can do this on a smaller scale as well, using a corny keg and keeping the beer
carbonated, which avoids the problem of air in the headspace.
If the solera is inoculated with a Brettanomyces or mixed lambic culture, the wild
complexity will increase as time goes by, tempered by additions of fresher, sweeter
beer. Be sure to keep the cask in a cool place where temperature swings are
minimal— a cellar is the obvious solution if you have one. Also, be sure to keep the
cask topped up, as evaporation will occur, and air is an invitation to vinegar-
producing bacteria.
STONE BEER
Stone beers are a fun and scary group project, as well as an ancient tradition.
This practice survived from ancient times in Carinthia, the southern part of
Austria. Two commercial breweries made steinbier until 1917, although twenty-six
stone breweries had been active in the area in 1750. According to research, pine or
In the days when wooden vessels were the norm for brewing, getting the heat of
the fire into the mash or the boil wasn’t as easy as just swinging the cauldron over the
fire. The problem was solved by heating stones and then placing them in the tubs
along with the mash or wort.
other softwood was used to heat the stones, giving them (and the beer) a somewhat
resinous quality. Here’s an eyewitness account from 1908:
“The mash is put into a wooden mash-tub, is then heated up by means of
stones brought to a glow, and this subjected to boiling. The stones used
for the purpose, on the average size of a human head, are heated in a
wood fire for two or three hours, and when they begin to be red-hot, the
smaller ones are placed on the bottom of the mashtub, this bottom
having first been covered with thoroughly soaked juniper brush-wood.
Next the hops and some water are added, and after the hops have several
times brought to the boiling point, the doughing-in commences. The
larger stones are now submerged in the mash, using for this purpose
peculiarly shaped forks, and stirring the mash at the same time. The
‘Steinbier’ brewer knows from experience just how many of these stones
are needed to get his wort to the right temperature. Thermometers and
iodine tests are anachronisms for him. After the mash is ready it remains
at rest for an hour, branches or twigs of juniper having been first placed
into the mash in a vertical position. to promote straining. Then the mash
is drawn off. the plug of the mash-tun only loosened somewhat to that
end. The wort is ladled back from the underback until it runs off clear.
“Meanwhile water has also been heated in a second tub by means of hot
stones, and the sparging is done with this water. Next the first wort and
the spargings are both put into smaller tubs, where the wort is to cool
off. since surface coolers do not exist in this ‘Steinbier’ brewery. [The
wort is] pitched with yeast at [66 to 77 °F or 19 to 25° C]. At this
temperature, then, it is pitched, of course with a rather unclean top-
yeast. Next day the beer is racked from the tubs into smaller casks,
where it undergoes a secondary fermentation. and in three or four days
it is ready for consumption.
“Malting methods are just as primitive as the brewing and the malt takes
on a smoky odor or taste in consequence of the smoke of the kiln-fire,
similar to the Graetzer beer of Posen, which enjoys great reputation,
and is distinguished by its intensely smoky taste. Stone beer is turbid, but
of pale color, and is popular because of its thirst-quenching, refreshing
and carbonic qualities. Mostly it is drunk in mugs or tankards, with a bit
of gin or fruit brandy, just as is often done with ‘Weissbier.’”
Such beer was traditionally made from two-thirds oats and one-third malt, often
wheat rather than barley. A German brewing magazine reported in 1910 that the
amount of grain used was about 4.5 pounds per 5-gallon batch, in homebrew terms,
putting the gravity somewhere in the neighborhood of 1.020 (5 °P). A very small beer,
indeed, as were many other related wheat- and oat-based beers of the day such as
witbier and Berliner weisse.
The rocks normally employed (a heat-resistant metamorphic sandstone called
graywacke) create a mountain of steam when plunged into the wort. A concretion of
gooey caramelized sugars penetrates the pores, coating the rocks as the wort boils.
The rocks are then placed into the lagering tanks to stimulate a secondary
fermentation, giving off caramel, toffeelike, and finally smoky flavors as the sugars
dissolve in the beer.
Holy Temecula, Brewman!
Put two homebrewers and a few well-crafted beers together, and you’ve got a rocking
party. Put fifteen hundred of them in a park in southern California for three days in
May, doing what homebrewers do, and it’s a sublime state of bliss, a sort of worty
Woodstock. The Southern California Homebrew Festival, with ever more elaborate
serving displays, and ever more beer, topped off with lectures, barbecue, and even a
homebrewed band, is the largest gathering of homebrewers on the planet.
A similar event called the Northern California Homebrewers Festival takes place in the
foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains. It features much of the same kind of
camaraderie, and even includes a gourmet beer dinner in the woods.
Rauchenfels Steinbier is commercial steinbier inspired by the Carinthian
tradition, although employing beechwood instead of pine, plus several other changes
that bring it into line with more modern tastes. The brewery makes two versions, a
pale amber lager Steinbier, and a lighter colored Steinweizen, which exhibits more
smoky character. Both are of conventional gravity at 1.048 (11.5 °P), with modest hop
bitterness.
As you might imagine, the brewing of steinbier is a spectacular crowd pleaser,
with giant fires, plenty of steam, and dangerously hot boiling liquids. And because of
the intense caramelization of the wort by the hot rocks, the beer’s a delight as well.
My friend Ray Spangler used to organize a stone beer demo at the infamous
Oldenburg Beer Camp. He employed fist-size granite stream cobbles. These are
reasonably stable and not prone to flaking as are rougher rocks. Finer-textured rock
tends to hold together best. The best candidates are dense, igneous (volcanic) rocks
such as granite or basalt, and I’ve heard that quartzite works as well. Avoid limestone
or other sedimentary rock, as it is porous, prone to cracking, and soluble in beer. For a
5-gallon batch, you’ll need about 7 to 8 pounds of rocks, about 0.5 to 1 pound each.
It’s a good idea to preheat stones at lower temperatures before putting them in the fire,
to reduce the risk of shattering. A couple of hours in a conventional oven at 350° F
ought to do it, or you can put them near the fire at first and move them in gradually,
rather than just plopping them in the coals.
GROUP GROPES
Just getting everybody’s equipment together for a brew can be a lot of fun,
whatever the beer. While this usually takes place in backyards and driveways, it can
be much more extreme. The American Homebrewers Association sponsors an event
on the first Saturday in May called Big Brew. Sites around the country host brewers
and their rigs for a giant brew-in, which also usually includes a big ol’ party.
Definitely worth checking out, and you don’t have to brew to attend.
Cincinnati’s Bloatarian Brewing League has a campout—Beer & Propane—that
culminates in a mystic late-night campfire ceremony, complete with holy relics, silly
hats, and the pounding of the symbol of Evil Order (as represented by a can of mega-
brew) into the earth.
Yield: 5 gallons (19 liters)
Gravity: 1.038 (9 °P)
Alcohol/vol: 3 to 3.5%
Color: Pale straw
Bitterness: 16 IBU
Yeast: German weissbier; lactic culture optional
Maturation: 3 to 5 weeks
This has been modernized into something more palatable, while trying to preserve some of the character
of this old-timer. As outlined in the previous description, the process is pretty complicated, and I’ll leave
it to you whether you want to follow the whole archaic ordeal. I think it’s reasonable to skip the stones in
the mash, and just do that part conventionally.
WARNING: Be aware that any rock can shatter violently when heated, especially when
the heating or cooling is rapid. Be sure that everyone nearby is wearing goggles or safety
glasses. There’s bound to be some splashing, even a boilover, so suit up— this is a good
cold-weather spectacle.
All-Malt Recipe:
5.0 lb (2.3 kg)67%
oat malt
2.5 lb (1.1 kg)33%
smoked wheat malt
Armfuljuniper branches (preferably with berries on them)
or
4.0 oz (113g)crushed juniper berries
Hops:
1.5 oz (43 g)60 minSaaz hops (3% AA)
RECIPE
Carinthian Steinbier
Procedure:
Place 2 gallons (7.5 liters) of water into your brew kettle, add the juniper branches (or berries) and the
first dose of hops, then bring to a boil, which should last half an hour. This can be done with the hot
stones as described, or over a flame. Transfer this liquid, branches and all, into your mash tun, add the
grain, and add more boiling water as needed to bring it up to a rather high (155° F or 68.5° C)
saccharification temperature, then let it rest for an hour. Sparge as normal, not worrying too much about
wort clarity. Bring the wort up to a simmer.
Meanwhile, you should be heating your rocks, either in a campfire or on a propane burner. Be sure to
make everyone involved wear goggles and long sleeved clothing when you’re doing this! A
waterproof apron is a good idea for those within splashing distance.
Place the stones in the fire and heat them until they’re as hot as you can get them—glowing red or white.
Use long tongs or a shovel to transfer the stones into a basket made from stainless steel strapping or
heavy screen mesh, with chains attaching the basket securely to a pole that two people can handle. Then,
slowly lower the rocks into the brew. There will be a dramatic release of steam; people will ooh and aah.
After a minute or two, pull out the basket of stones and allow the sugars to caramelize, then lower them
back in the wort. Repeat this a few times until the rocks have lost most of their heat. Complete the boil
with a conventional heat source. Allow the rocks to cool to room temperature, then you can either place
them in the primary fermenter, or put them in plastic bags and store them in the freezer, then add them to the
beer in the secondary, where it’s likely to retain more of the caramelized flavors.
An apple-smashing party can be a lot of fun in the fall. Rent or borrow a cider
press, and set it up, hopefully at somebody’s house where there’s an apple or pear
tree, as the fruit is much cheaper that way. Ask everyone who comes to bring apples,
pears, quinces, crabapples, or anything squishable, and start squeezing. This really
makes for a great fall day.
OR, YOU CAN GET COMPETITIVE
Beer Judge Certification Program
This organization tests and certifies judges and sanctions competitions. Go to bjcp.org
for details and loads of other useful beer information.
The Gulf Coast Region seems to produce very competitive-minded clubs. A
series of homebrew competitions that double as mini conferences in Dallas, Orlando,
and Houston occupy much of the year for brewers down South. These events are run
with much passion and good humor. At Houston’s Dixie Cup, homebrew legend Fred
Eckhardt has been cast as an alien, bandito, dominatrix, and ghoul in “Night of the
Living Fred.” The boundaries also get pushed with special competition categories like
“The Beer That Burns Twice,” for chile beers, of course.
There are hundreds of homebrew competitions at the local, regional, and national
levels. The Beer Judge Certification Program qualifies and tracks judges as well as
sanctioning competitions. Many local competitions tie together to award regional
“best of” awards; the Gulf Coast is one such circuit. MCAB (Masters Championship
of Amateur Brewing) awards point to individuals at sanctioned competitions, then
brings the best of the best together for a final gundown. The American Homebrew
Association National Competition is the biggest of all, three thousand beers, fed into a
number of regional first-round sites, and culminating in June at the AHA National
Conference where the finalists are chosen and crowned. Competitions are the surest
way to hone your brewing skills. The ruthless honesty of a blind judging gives you
feedback your pals never will. You improve or else.
There are other possible formats besides sanctioned competitions. Beer & Sweat,
the world’s largest keg-only homebrew competition, rocks Cincinnati in August with
about one hundred and fifty entries. Here in Chicago, we have hosted invitational
brewoffs, extending invitations and a kit of ingredients to a number of well-respected
brewers; others were free to buy the kits and compete as well. Contestants didn’t have
to use everything in the kit, and they were required to add something to the brew—
one year it was a box of breakfast cereal—which made for a fun and fascinating
tasting. For a competition like this, judging can be by celebrity panel or popular
voting.
Homebrewers do more than homebrew; they’re in the vanguard of promoting
interest in quality commercial beer as well. The most active Washington D.C. area
club, the Brewers United for Real Potables (BURP), hosts a specialized beer
conference called “The Spirit of Belgium” on a roughly every-other-year basis. My
own club, the Chicago Beer Society—a beer appreciation club run mostly by
homebrewers—helps Ray Daniels put on the Real Ale Fest, the largest gathering of
real ales outside of Britain, and hosts five or six other commercial beer events a year.
A favorite is the Brewpub Shootout, where local brewpubs compete fiercely for best
beer, best food, and best pairing.
BEYOND BEER DRINKING: BEER TASTING
This is very simple to do at home with your friends. All
you need is some small glasses, a loaf of bread or crackers,
some beer enthusiasts, and, of course, beer. Tastings come in
many formats. They can be blind or not. They may focus on a
single style or be very diverse. See the list on the following
page for some suggestions.
Glasses Four- to 6-ounce clear glasses work best.
Champagne or small wineglasses are perfect, but little
tumblers will do. Have at least two glasses for every person.
Clear plastic cups are serviceable for a larger group. If you are
using glass, make sure that it is squeaky clean, with no traces
of detergent that can affect the aroma and collapse the head.
Water A really good idea. Use bottled or filtered—tap water usually has a lot of
chlorine in it.
Dump Buckets Have empty pitchers or small buckets for dumping rinse water.
Bread or Crackers These help to clear the palate between tastings. They’re a
must-have in a judging situation, more optional in an informal tasting. Best are very
simple products such as water crackers or plain French bread. Serving butter along
with them is a definite no-no, as this can affect flavor and cause the untimely collapse
of an otherwise faultless head.
Focus The world of beer is very large. Tastings are usually more informative if a
theme is chosen, rather than a random assortment of beers. Check the accompanying
box for a list of possibilities.
Reference Material Have a book handy, such as Michael Jackson’s World Guide
to Beer, to provide background information on the beers at your tasting. Most
breweries now post information on their Web sites about their products, so putting
together a custom handout shouldn’t be all that difficult.
No Smoking! Tobacco smoke can make it very difficult to properly evaluate the
nuances of fine beer. On the other hand, beer and cigar tastings have been held with
some degree of success, usually by concentrating on massively powerful beers.
Freshness Counts Beer is highly perishable, and may easily succumb to the
ravages of time, heat, and fluorescent light. Try to make sure the beers you’re tasting
are as fresh as possible.
Serving Temperature This makes a lot of difference. Lagers should ideally be
served at about 40 to 45° F, ales at 50 to 55° F. Except for lawnmower beers, none
should be served ice-cold.
Pour for a Good Head Straight down the center of the glass is the preferred
method for pouring beer. This may create what seems like an excess of foam, but
when it settles down, you’ll have a tight, creamy head and plenty of aroma.
Small Pours are Best A 2- to 4-ounce sample is adequate for judging and
evaluating beers. Larger amounts make it difficult to do very many. Six to 8-ounce
glasses allow room for the head, and to collect the aroma.
Black Oil Porter and Brain Death Barley Wine
Souvenirs of Houston’s Dixie Cup homebrew competition. Labels by Bev Blackwood.
Score Sheets These make a tasting slightly more formal, but they force
participants to consider each important aspect of the beer. Wine tastings have been
done this way for years. Why not think about beer in the same considered fashion?
Ask for an extra copy of a judging form, and you can copy it for your own tasting.
Blind is Best for Rating If you’re trying to evaluate beers objectively, this is a
must. Cover the labels or pour the beers out of sight of the tasters
Limit the Number of Beers Even experienced judges experience palate burnout
over about a dozen beers. You can have a very nice tasting with only half that amount.
Beer Tasting Themes
By Country/Region:
Germany
Belgium
USA—Microbreweries
Britain
Mexico
Southern Hemisphere beers
The beers of Asia
By Season:
The beers of summer
Oktoberfest beers
Winter beers
Bock beers
By Character:
By color
By strength
By yeast—lager, ale, weizen, etc.
By Beer Styles:
Lagers
Scotch ales
Monastery beers
Wheat beers
Stouts and porters
Pale ales
Beer with Food:
Pitch-in pairings
Chili cook-off and the perfect chili beer
National beer and food
YOU CAN TAKE IT WITH YOU!
One of the early icons of modern homebrewing was a photo of the legendary
Charlie Papazian and his band of merry pranksters cavorting in the surf, homebrew in
hand, in Fiji of all places. Staring at this photo brought to mind a rush of possibilities.
If one’s nose could be thumbed at rampant commercialism by drinking homebrew at
the very ends of the earth, then nothing was impossible. Homebrew is universal! As
brewers, it is our privilege, even our duty, to carry it to the distant corners of the
globe.
At the simplest, you just toss a few bottles in the knapsack and go. But
sometimes, glass is forbidden. Sometimes you want to bring a whole lot more than a
six-pack. Sometimes, you even want to brew it there!
Most venues and events don’t really want you bringing your own beer to the
game. But in an effort to become more “family-friendly,” many have relaxed their
standards, allowing coolers as long as they contain “no glass, no cans.” Your weapon
in this little game is the plastic soda bottle. With your dark beers in cola bottles and
your pale ones in ginger ale bottles, you can walk through the checkpoint as cool as a
well-chilled Pilsener.
You may bottle and prime plastic bottles as you
would glass or fill them with draft beer from the tap.
The Carbonator Cap (available from most homebrew
shops) allows you to give the draft beers an extra squirt
of gas, replacing what you lose when you draw off the
tap. To reduce foaming, I have found it helpful to
extend the tap with a piece of hose long enough to
reach the bottom of your bottle. Release most of the
pressure on the keg, using 3 to 5 psi to get the stuff to
flow.
Even when you’re not in a surreptitious mode these
bottles are a good choice, as they are light, cheap, and unbreakable. But be advised
that some soda flavors linger in the plastic and can give your beer the startlingly
inappropriate aromas of root beer, grape, or orange. Cola, lemon-lime, and ginger ale
bottles seem to be fine, though.
BREWING IN THE WILD
I have a friend who brews beer on the first day of his annual group canoe trip,
consuming the beer at the end of the week. It sounds impossible at first, but brewing
away from home just takes a little extra planning and special technique.
If you’re traveling heavy, you can transport your whole rig, including multiple
propane burners and a generator for your pumps. But you can make beer with much
less. Wood fire served our ancestors for a million years or so. A fermenter can be
made from a couple of clean trash bags lining a cooler. Gravity works really well in
the forest. If you have a lot of time on your hands, do as the Finns do and hack a
brewing/fermenting vessel out of a log.
The only big trick is fermenting and finishing the beer in a short time. Bottling is
out of the question; you need a draft setup for this trick. Here’s what you can do to
speed up the process:
1. Brew a low-gravity beer With less work for the yeast to do, you get a palatable
beer more quickly. An amber or dark beer will hide the inevitable cloudiness, if
you’re concerned about esthetics.
2. Pitch plenty of yeast Use three or four packets of fresh dry yeast, properly
rehydrated, or a big gob of the stuff from a starter or previous batch.
3. Crash it Two days before serving, rack it into a soda keg (unless your primary is in
a vessel that can be easily iced), and chill it as close to freezing as you can manage.
This will drop the yeast from suspension, largely clearing your beer. Then rack back
to the primary (be sure to save some extra trash bags to use for liners), clean the
settled yeast out of the keg, and rack the beer back into it.
4. Jam it Force carbonate to 40 to 50 psi, rocking or shaking for fifteen minutes or
longer. Leave it on the gas overnight at this pressure and the next day it will be
carbonated enough to thoroughly enjoy. Be sure to keep it cold all through this
process.
That’s all there is to it, although the logistics of wort chilling and sanitation will
be challenging, to say the least. A nice touch is to add a taste of the natural bounty of
your location: raspberries, wild ginger root, birch bark, sassafras, or even chanterelle
mushrooms. For the sake of time, most of these are probably best added at the end of
the boil. Pull out the Euell Gibbons and see what’s available.
So you see that there is no need to stay locked in your cellar this summer in order
to be near a source of decent beer. Don’t be afraid to pack up your cooler, get out, and
enjoy the sunshine!
Chapter 20
T
HE
B
UCKAPOUND
B
REWERY
T
here comes a point
for many homebrewers when the basic starter
equipment kit just doesn’t cut it any more. The mysterious urgings of the brewer’s art
often send many of us scurrying from junkyard to laboratory supply shops in search of
the pieces from which to build the perfect homebrewery—some dusty but beautiful
stainless steel vessels, bits of tubing, valves, screen, and the like. At some point
during this quest the aspiring brewery engineer is faced with the intimidating problem
of how to put it all together.
For many homebrewers, equipment is simply a means to an end—simple,
functional, something that has to be addressed before the real work of brewing can
begin.
For me, it’s a little different. Of course I enjoy making and sharing homebrew,
but I also love the hardware. The thrill of a good scrounge combined with the
rewarding handwork of cutting, shaping, and fusing stainless steel suits me perfectly.
Part NASA, part Frankenstein’s lab, and part Snuffy Smith, I view my Buckapound
Brewery as functional kinetic art.
It’s called the Buckapound Brewery because for a long time this was the price of
scrap stainless. Now the price is $1.25, but that just doesn’t have the same ring.
I’ve been working on this outrageous brewery-building path since 1986 or so, and
have gone through numerous variations, not all of them successful. I now have it to
the point that it’s functioning smoothly; it’s a rare brew day that I have to get out the
tool kit. Parts of it are still pretty rough looking—prototypes, really. My current thrust
is toward making it all attractive as well. The lauter tun is the first piece of this better-
looking gear; wood cladding will complete the classic look. A copper and stainless
brew kettle is in the works.
How I ever ended up with a hobby that involves so much plumbing is a cosmic
mystery I’ll never fathom, except to acknowledge that the universe does have a sense
of humor.
I thought it might be amusing, or possibly even informative, to share some of my
principles and practicalities with you. Few would want to follow me all the way down
this path, but I think there are ideas here that are well worth considering, no matter
what sort of homebrewery you’re assembling.
One more thing. I am an artist by training, not an engineer. So those of you
without technical training should know that this deficiency is no barrier to making the
homebrewery of your dreams. Hooking a mash tun up to a computer is beyond most
of us, but there are plenty of things you can just work out through trial and error. The
engineers that specified the castoffs I’m using can laugh if they want, but this thing
does brew beer.
PLANNING AND GOALS
You can just start building stuff willy-nilly, but the beginning is a good time to
pause and decide what you are trying to accomplish with all this grinding and
welding. You will want to formulate some sort of a plan.
Some possible goals are (some of these may conflict):
Shorter brew day
Less effort/attention
More complete control
Special processes like adjunct mashes, decoctions
Really cool looking
Built around a unique found object/vessel/part
Historical authenticity
You will also have some limitations to deal with:
Skill areas
Access to tools—your own or otherwise
What’s available for $1 per pound
Available space
Energy source(s)
Cool Looks
A basic brew kettle with artful, stylized details.
You also have to ask the hard question: will the new doojiemaflopper work for
me? It’s easy to make brewing more difficult as things get more complex. There are
issues of coordination and reliability; the more pieces you have, the more time it takes
to hook it up, and then take it apart. And more to wash, at the very least. You need to
coldly decide if the benefit is worth the effort.
RAW MATERIALS
Brew-friendly materials are often hostile to deal with. The ingredients that make
stainless durable also make it challenging to shape and join. What works for one
material is often a disaster for another. A little knowledge and the proper tools can
mean the difference between a shiny new brewery and a smoking pile of expensive
junk on the basement floor.
Stainless Steel This is the best material for almost everything for all stages of the
brewing process, from mashing to lagering. It is resistant to all chemicals used in
brewing and cleaning, with the caution that extended contact with chlorine-based
cleaners will cause corrosion. It is a poor heat conductor, but adequate for most
brewing purposes. It is expensive when new, but since it’s so enduring, there are lots
of vessels, parts, and pieces on the surplus market.
There are two types you will most often come across: 304 and 316. The latter is
the higher-grade material, with extra manganese for better resistance to corrosion.
Either type is fine for any conceivable homebrew purpose.
Stainless steel is hard, and when it gets hot it gets even harder. This is a key point.
This is the reason for the smoking drill bits and melting saber saw blades you may
have encountered when trying to cut or drill the stuff. Slow speeds are recommended.
For drilling, the secret weapon is a cobalt drill bit. They cost more than regular
bits, but they’re virtually indestructible. Any large hardware store should have them.
Tungsten carbide bits aren’t meant for drilling stainless steel, but a carbide rotary file
or burr is a useful tool to chuck into your drill to clean up rough-edged holes and saw
cuts.
If you’re tapping (threading) stainless, get the most expensive taps you can find—
high-speed steel, at least—and be very careful. It’s easy to break off a small tap in the
process of trying to thread a hole (broken taps in stainless or copper can be dissolved
with acid, by the way). A good lubricant is essential. It’s also important to back the
tap out frequently, to keep the hole clear of chips.
Brewery Safety
The combination of electricity, water, heat, gas, and motors offers a tremendous
number of potential hazards. Here are a number of them, but no list can replace good
common sense in building or operating your brewery equipment.
• Electricity and water can be a deadly combination. Use the kind of electrical boxes
meant for outdoor use, and always be sure the equipment is grounded. The use of a
GFCI-protected outlet or extension cord is essential; be sure to test it regularly. If you
install sensors like float switches or thermostats, use low voltage for the signal
circuits, stepping it up to line voltage with a relay placed well away from the water.
Use good sense as far as the way things are constructed, using waterproof boxes and
connectors when that is a concern, and heat-resistant wire and other hardware when
that is appropriate.
• Propane is often used to fire burners. It should never be used or stored indoors, as it
is heavier than air, and should a leak develop, it will crawl along the floor until it finds
a pilot light and then... blam. It is obvious that gas hoses of any kind should be
checked often and kept well away from the heat when the burner’s on.
• Fire from these large burners can put heat where you don’t want it: above, below,
and beside the pot, so make sure you keep flammable (or low melting point) materials
well away. Install heat shields if needed.
• A natural gas or propane burner can generate dangerous amounts of carbon
monoxide if it’s burning poorly. Yellow flame or soot on the kettle are dead
giveaways (literally). Some burners (wok burners, for example) don’t like to be turned
down too low, or they’ll start putting out carbon monoxide. If you brew indoors, get a
CO monitor/alarm and use it.
• A common source of injury in commercial breweries is the boilover. When the wort
comes to a boil, it can turn from placid to raging in an instant, so you need to be
watching the heat very carefully at this critical point. Hops provide nucleation sites for
bubble formation, adding to the problem. Add a pinch at first, let the boil settle, then
add the rest—and be ready to lower the heat.
• Moving hot liquids through tubing can be dangerous, as the heat may cause the
tubing to soften, and it may pop loose from its fitting, squirting scalding water
randomly. Pumps multiply the hazard. Make sure your tubing can handle the heat,
check the hose clamps when the tubing is warm, and retighten if needed.
• Rotating motors connected to things like stirring paddles can be dangerous, so try to
design them in such a way as to keep fingers out of the way as much as possible.
• Although there are plenty of safe and effective brewery cleaning chemicals, if you
can’t resist the urge to occasionally use the more traditional chemicals like caustic
soda (lye) or strong acids, you should make sure to use goggles, gloves, and other
protection.
Unless it’s very thin, stainless is too tough to cut with tin snips, and must be cut
with a saw or abrasive disk. In a saber saw, use a type of blade called bimetal, which
features high-speed steel teeth on a flexible backing. A variable-speed saber saw or a
reciprocal saw with a bimetal blade is a workable choice. Watch the speed carefully,
because the blade can get red-hot trying to chew through the stuff, and will dull (or
melt) rapidly. Carbide grit blades work pretty well, too, and are the blade of choice
with a single-speed saw.
Abrasive disks work better than saws. I like a 3” diameter, 1/16” thick disk on a
die grinder, which will cut through just about anything.
Stainless steel requires an exotic and expensive welding process as well. TIG
welding uses an inert gas to prevent oxidation of the weld. Before you take your job to
the welder, make sure he has this capability.
Stainless (and other materials) can be joined by brazing with silver-based alloys.
This is strong, but is not as corrosion-resistant as welding. It is suitable for affixing a
pipe fitting to the bottom of your boiling kettle, which is the thing you’ll be most
likely to need. You can do this at home with a MAPP or propane torch. Make sure the
brazing filler is compatible with food and drink. For stainless, you need special flux.
Just call the welding supply shop and tell them what you’re doing, and they’ll sell you
the right stuff. Since the braze is water-thin when molten, it will not fill gaps. A very
tight fit-up is mandatory for good results.
Copper This is the traditional material for boiling kettle construction, due to its
excellent heat conductivity. It is resistant to acids, but easily damaged by contact with
alkaline materials such as chlorine cleaner and lye. It is suitable for anything on the
hot side of the brewery, but is not serviceable for fermentation because it reacts with
the common materials used in cleaning and sterilizing. That great coppery luster on
traditional brew kettles requires a lot of elbow grease, as copper tarnishes quickly.
Copper Stein, c. 1900
The burnished glow of copper has long caught the drinker’s eye as well as the brewer’s.
Brass and Bronze These are alloys of copper: brass with zinc; and bronze with tin,
silicon, or other metals. They are most commonly used for such pieces as tube fittings
and valves. All the precautions about the corrosiveness of copper apply to these
metals too. Most ordinary yellow brass contains lead as a lubricant to make it machine
better, so this is not such a great material for extended contact with acidic or alkaline
liquids, although for things like brew kettle valves it poses no great hazard.
Aluminum It is cheap, available, and an excellent conductor of heat. It is passable as
a boiling kettle material, but not recommended due to its reactivity. Aluminum
corrodes violently on contact with alkalis such as chlorine cleaner and lye, but is
resistant to acids. It is okay for heating water (for strike and sparge) but not too great
for any other use.
Solder Watch out. Ordinary solder is a mix of tin and lead, both of which are toxic to
yeast and powerful haze-formers as well. Don’t use it for anything that comes in
contact with wort or beer. The lead-free solder you can get is less toxic, but is mostly
tin, which may be leached out by the acidic wort or beer. So-called “silver” solder is
mostly tin, too. If you can avoid solder, do so.
Iron/Steel Contact with beer should be avoided, as iron can be a source of bad flavor
and a significant haze-former. It’s fine for stands and other structural uses. Enamel
canning kettles are steel underneath, so if they’re chipped, they’re capable of
contaminating your beer.
Glass Brewery Piping, Zatec, Czech Republic
Bohemia, famous as a glass blowing center, is phasing out these old pipes.
Glass It’s a beautiful material, inert, and inexpensive; in many respects an ideal
material for fermentation vessels such as carboys. It is resistant to all cleaning and
sterilizing materials you would ever use. The one caution is that glass will become
etched from long contact with strong solutions of caustic (lye), so it’s best to limit the
soaking time if you’re using that cleaning material. Its extreme brittleness makes glass
impractical to cut and drill.
Polyethylene and other Plastics Polyethylene is inexpensive and abundant. Of
course it is not at all heat resistant, but it’s fine for water treatment and storage,
mashing, sparging, and wort collection vessels. High density or linear is the premium
grade—it’s harder, tougher, and stands up to heat better than the garden variety. Often
used for primary fermenters, polyethylene is highly resistant to all common cleaning
and sanitizing materials, but after some use it will develop minute scratches that can be
a safe haven for contaminating microbes. White kitchen trash bags, fresh from the box,
are relatively sterile and may be used as liners for primary fermenters.
Nylon, polycarbonate, polypropylene, and other types are available in sheets or
slabs of varying thicknesses, and make good structural materials for brewery
equipment.
Flexible tubing is an essential brewery material. Most is PVC (polyvinyl
chloride). It’s very important that it is of food grade material, which is more expensive
and sometimes can’t be found at the hardware store, but the cheap stuff can leach
toxic chemicals into your beer. If it is not specified as food grade, it probably isn’t.
Tubing of other materials such as polyethylene and silicone are useful as well, and
sometimes show up as industrial surplus.
INTERCHANGEABILITY, MODULARITY
This is crucial for an easy-to-use system. Standardize all hose connections with
the same type of connector. I like 3/8” Swagelok type compression fittings. Other,
quicker disconnects are available, but are usually pretty expensive, even on eBay.
Valuable components such as pumps need to do multiple duty, making an even
stronger case for a unified system of hookups.
On larger vessels it is helpful if components, especially electrical stuff, can come
off for cleaning. I have installed sanitary (Tri-Clover type) fittings to all my larger
vessels, so thermometers and large valves can quickly pop on and off for cleaning or
reconfiguration. You will see this as we tour the brewery later on.
Hot and cold water can be hooked up with readily available (and inexpensive) garden
hose disconnects.
Left, NPT threaded plumbing fittings, not quick; center, Swagelok type tubing fittings,
sort of quick; right, quick disconnects, expensive and hard to clean.
Reliability It’s a problem sometimes with surplus, but more often it’s:
Poor planning
Improper usage
Quickie (duct tape) construction
Take the time to install something properly, and resist the urge to put something
to use as soon as you can.
Simplicity? Well, this is a beautiful idea, and I highly recommend it to others, but it’s
really not the path for me!
AUTOMATION
My own goals are these, in order of importance:
Faster brewing
Easier setup/takedown/cleanup
Better beer, more flexible process
The length of the brew day is important, but also how much energy and attention
is required for each stage. I like to have things running without a lot of intervention,
so I can do something else while a process is taking care of itself.
Temperature Control I have implemented some temperature control measures in
these areas: mashing, sparge water, and fermentation. Fortunately, this is a common
occurrence in the industry, so the parts and pieces are readily available on the salvage
market.
Mercury Thermoregulator
There are many different types of devices that may be used to switch devices on and off
according to temperature. This is one of the more elegant types, usually used for
incubators and other laboratory setups.
Mechanical Mixing This has been a big success at the Buckapound. I always hated
stirring, but with flame-heated step mashes, the scorching and sticking required
constant stirring, and even that wasn’t enough. There are geared motors available with
speed reduction built in. You want something around 60 rpm or somewhat lower. If
you can find a reversible one, even better. The bigger problem with stainless vessels is
the scorching. I solved this by cutting out the bottom of the vessel and replacing it
with 0.090” thick copper sheet. This isn’t easy to do, but silicon bronze or aluminum
bronze rod with a TIG process will stick permanently to both metals.
I have installed a solenoid valve on my filtered tap water line. This may seems
like a pointless luxury, but when controlled by a float switch at the top of my kettle or
liquor back, it saves me hours of mopping up water that used to spill out when I forgot
to stand there and monitor the fill level.
I have a couple of other uses for float switches. One, in the lauter tun, monitors
the sparge water level and kicks on a pump to keep the bed from drying out. The
second is attached to the grant, and when a certain level is reached, turns on a pump
that moves the wort to the brew kettle. With these two devices, I can let the sparge go
almost completely unattended, freeing me to get the next stage of brewing set up.
CIP (Clean-In-Place) Unit Built by the Author
3-way valves allow recirculation, fresh water, and pumping to the drain. Carboys and
soda kegs may be inverted on top for cleaning.
These float switches cannot handle the 110 volts needed for things like pumps.
They must be wired to switch on (or off) a low-voltage signal, and this is fed to a
relay, which delivers the line voltage the pumps require. This is a necessity, but it’s
also a great safety feature as it keeps the line voltage high and dry on the wall or
ceiling. I have one freestanding relay box, and another one built into the control box
of a pump.
A pair of pumps
Above, a direct-drive centrifugal pump that will move several gallons a minute. Below,
a magnetically coupled self-priming gear pump used for wort transfer.
Float Switch
Used to switch a valve or pump according to liquid level.
A NOTE ON SURPLUS
It is a sign of the great abundance of our civilization that massive quantities of
perfectly useful industrial parts and pieces are scrapped out and end up for sale for
just pennies on the dollar. Most cities of any size have an industrial surplus outlet, and
these are well worth searching out. Many of these operations now have a presence on
the Web, and of course eBay has become a tremendous source for just about anything
you need to put a really crazy, wonderful brewery together.
THE BUCKAPOUND BREWERY—AN OVERVIEW
This is a current snapshot of my own brewing setup. As noted in the text, there are
many different ways to put a brewing system together—this is just how I solved the
problem, based on my skills and the junk (sorry, stuff) I found during the process.
Virtually all of this equipment is made from stainless steel, from junkyards and
surplus shops.
The hose connections are 3/8” compression fittings, and the valves and thermometers
are connected to the vessels with sanitary fittings, which are easy to remove for
cleaning.
1a Mash kettle with copper bottom
1b Reversible stirring motor
1c 2” ball valve for transferring mash to lauter tun
2a Lauter tun made from stainless sheet metal. This is fitted with an insulating
jacket and an outer oak cladding, both of which are removed for clarity.
2b Sprinkler head for sparge water
2c Vacuum gauge measures pressure on bottom of lauter screen (too much
suction is bad)
2d Water coils circulate sparge water around the tun to keep temperature of
mash up. These may be bypassed when recirculating (vorlaufing).
2e Float switch monitors level of water on mash, turns on pump when level gets
low.
3a Grant made from industrial pressure vessel. It holds the wort that drains
from the lauter tun.
3b Float switch in grant turns on pump when level gets too high, sending wort
to kettle.
4a Pump positioned to transfer wort from grant to kettle.
4b Transfer pump moving hot water to sparge sprinkler. Note that this is shown
attached to boil kettle. In practice, the mash kettle is cleaned out and used as
a hot liquor tank.
5a Boil kettle made from castoff beer kegs—a quarter barrel welded on top of a
half barrel. The kettle rests on top of a home-built stove, featuring a wok
burner fueled by natural gas. This kettle features a copper bottom like the
mash kettle.
5b Light fixture. With a kettle this deep, it really is a helpful feature to see how
the boil is coming, or to get it clean.
5c 2” valve feeds wort, hops and all, into the hop back.
6 Hop back made from soda carbonator keg. Inside is lined with a fine
perforated mesh, which catches the hop cones and particles.
7 12-gallon cylindroconical fermenter made from a stainless steel milk
container. It has sanitary fittings top and bottom, as well as a soda-keg hatch
for cleaning access.
Chapter 21
AF
EW
W
ORDS ON
B
EER AND
F
OOD
F
inding foods and beers
that go well together has been elevated to an
arcane metaphysical art of late, and I do have to say that when you find a great
combination it can be magical. But let’s not over think this, folks. There’s nothing
about finding great combinations that should be mystical or intimidating. The dirty
little secret? There is no perfect pairing; something else would always work. So the
pressure’s off. Now, let’s figure out how to go about it.
Drink now the strong beare,
cut the white loaf here,
The while the meat is shredding,
For the rare mince pie,
and the plums stand by,
To fill the paste that’ a-kneading.
— Herrick
We beer aficionados are fortunate to have a product to work with that is
kaleidoscopic in its range of color, strengths, flavors, and textures—especially when
you include the radical realm. The available range of beers covers just about every
food possibility, from eels to peanut butter cups.
I’m outlining a set of rules, but you have to keep in mind that rules are meant to
be broken. The most important thing is to be conscious about your choices, and pay
attention to the flavors and the way they play against each other while you’re enjoying
them. This will eventually lead you to your own set of preferences, ideas, and
epiphanies.
MY RULES OF MATCHING FOOD AND BEER
One should not overwhelm the other. Find beers of the same intensity as the food.
A salad obviously needs a lighter accompaniment than a steak.
Look for resonance. See if you can find similar flavors in the food and beer that
can play off each other and add up to a greater whole—pairing a spicy dunkelweizen
with a delicately spiced gingerbread, for example. Or to ramp it up, maybe a
weizenbock with a sauerbraten in its traditional gingersnap gravy. There are lots of
possibilities: toasted savory flavors, buttery richness, herbal or spicy aromas, creamy
textures, smokiness, and roasted chocolate flavors. The list goes on and on.
Do a balancing act in your mouth. Everything’s going to end up there anyway, so
consider the food and beer as one thing, not two. Once you match the intensity, you
can find foods and beers that will play off each other’s eccentricities. A remarkable
example of this is to pair a sweet carrot cake with a crisply bitter imperial India pale
ale. They have a similar intensity, but one is very sweet, the other intensely bitter. A
mouthful of one demands a swig of another, and on and on it goes.
Cut the fat. Many foods are rich in delicious fat that leaves the mouth coated and
longing for something refreshing to cleanse the palate. Crisp, well-carbonated, and
especially bitter beer slices through any greasiness, and leaves the diner ready for
another bite.
Consider bitterness. This is a flavor found in only a few foods, for a very good
reason. In nature, bitterness is a marker for toxic chemicals such as alkaloids, many of
which evolved as a defense by plants against being eaten. We can learn to like it, as
most of us new-beer fanatics have, but it does go against the grain, especially in food.
Also, the taste buds that sense bitterness are much larger than the rest of the buds,
which means that bitterness takes longer to register, and lingers on the tongue long
after the other tastes have faded. Bitterness may be balanced by sweetness, acidity, or
salt, so these are things to look for in pairings. In general, very bitter beers (50 or
higher IBU) can easily overwhelm food flavors. Indian cuisine and IPA
notwithstanding, I also think that bitterness tends to magnify spicy heat, and that
slightly sweeter, maltier beers are better for hot food. Vienna/märzen with Mexican
food is the classic historical example.
A Sidewalk in the Hallertau
This region takes its food very seriously.
A Few Great Beer & Food Combinations
Belgian Dubbel
Barbecued Ribs
Brown Ale
Smoked Trout
Rauchbier
Black Forest Ham
Maibock
Roasted Pork Shank
Strong Witbier
Poached Salmon
Stout
Oysters
Porter
Roast Pork Loin
Pale Ale
Grilled Steak
Belgian Pale Ale
Mussels and Frites
IPA
Blue Cheese
Foreign Stout
Well-aged Cheddar
ESB
Uncomplicated Goat Cheese
Hoppy Pilsener
Triple-crème Cheese
Barley wine
Stilton
Imperial India Pale Ale
Carrot Cake
Imperial Stout
Chocolate Truffles
Belgian Strong Dark Ale
Milk Chocolate Hazelnut Truffles
Barley wine
Chocolate Mousse Cake
Cherry Brown Ale
Black Forest Cake
Look to tradition. Cuisines evolve, and this means that traditional combinations
tend to be pretty agreeable. Stout and oysters is something that might take an
adventurous person a lot of experimenting to stumble on, but the English already
worked this out for us. Tradition isn’t always a sure bet, though. There are lots of new
foods out there with no traditional beer companions. And in many food traditions, one
beer serves for all foods, which is obviously better for some dishes than for others.
Desserts are really interesting with beer. Roasted flavors and sweetness can be
built upon, and bitterness can be balanced against the sweet flavor of desserts.
Additionally, beer (except for lambic and other intentionally sour beers) is less acidic
than wine, so it works with chocolate and some of the heavier butterfat flavors better
than wine does. Sometimes you want something bright and acidic, and the lambics,
especially fruit lambics, come through, and are ideal companions to fruit tarts,
shortcake, and lighter desserts.
COOKING WITH BEER
In food, beer works like other kinds of liquid ingredients: to richen the dish, to
add flavors and aroma, and possibly color as well. There is a great range of flavor
strength available, which by this point should be obvious.
Shop Display, Brussels
Chocolate shaped like beer. You just gotta love this place!
Uses of Beer in Cooking
Usage
Typical dish
Replace liquid in recipe
Beer bread
Chocolate cake
To add air, lightness
Beer batter
Sabayón sauce
As sauce base
Carbonnade Flamande
Welsh rarebit
To richen
Chili and soups
Bread dough
Couscous
Stuffing
For basting
Roast fowl and meats
Barbecued shoulder or brisket
To deglaze pans
Sautéed chicken
Roast pork
Marinade
Barbecue ribs, other grilled foods
Brining base for poultry, pork loin
Poaching/steaming
Salmon, snapper, other fish
Crabs, clams, other shellfish
Bratwurst, other mild sausages
Vegetables such as endive or Brussels sprouts
As primary flavor
Kriek (cherry ale) ice cream
Framboise cheesecake
Stout float
Chicago’s Brewpub Shootout
Chefs fine-tune their creations before the competition.
Because the aromas of beer are volatile, it is sometimes a good idea to add some
fresh beer right at the end of cooking
Bitterness is the big drawback beer poses as an ingredient, but there are
workarounds. First, choose low-bitterness beer unless it will be used in a way (like in
a chocolate dish) that a little extra bitterness will not be noticed. Second, resist the
urge to reduce beer as you would a wine-based sauce, because even a lightly bittered
beer can get unpleasant. Reduce pan sauces first, then add beer right at the end.
Should you end up with a little more bitterness than you’d like, it can usually be
countered by sweetness, salt, or some combination added before serving.
When choosing cooking beers, look for freshness, good clean flavor, and plenty
of it. For most uses, beers with low bitterness are desired; even very sweet beers will
taste much drier when incorporated into a recipe.
Mainstream American beers are okay for beer batter and other situations where
you don’t want a lot of flavor. Although purists say not to cook with anything you
wouldn’t drink, this is not necessarily true. But skunked beer (usually in clear or green
bottles) will introduce unpleasant, rubbery flavors into your food, so chuck ’em.
Beer ingredients, as opposed to beer itself, can also be used for cooking. One
versatile component is malt extract in syrup or powdered form. It is richly flavored,
like the malted milk of our childhood, and can be used where a little sweetness is
needed. It’s great in bread dough, as it kind of supercharges yeast, and is used
commercially for that purpose. Use as a base for sauces or glazes for ham, duck, and
other dishes where a slightly sweet sauce is appropriate. Be sure to use an unhopped
variety for zero bitterness; liquid or dry will work equally well in most cases. Dry
extract is less messy to deal with in the kitchen when you’re doling it out a scoop at a
time.
Crystal malt has a glassy, sugary crunch and is very sweet, with great nutty,
caramelly flavors. The different degrees of kilning give it lots of versatility. Crystal
malt is especially good added to bread or rolls, where it adds a nice grainy texture and
complex sweetness. Just crush it coarsely and add it to dough, perhaps a cup for a 1-
pound batch. Many people use spent grain for a similar purpose, but I have to say
there is no comparison. They don’t call it “spent” for nothing.
Other malts may be used as well. Black or Carafa malt may be powdered finely
and sieved, then used to dust the outside of truffles, which are hopefully made with
the addition of imperial stout or barley wine.
A Few Dishes Prepared with Beer
Pork roast with apples and Kriek (cherry) lambic
Duck glazed with doppelbock
Chocolate stout truffles rolled in powdered black malt
Malt extract and mustard-glazed ham
Marinated grilled salmon, served with white beer cream sauce
Gingerbread stout cake
Pork chops in bock with mustard and onions
Pork ribs in smoked beer barbecue sauce
Chicken sautéed in Flanders sour brown ale and cherries
Grilled steak marinated in pale ale and green peppercorns
Bocked beans
Cheddar cheese spread made with India pale ale
Dinner rolls with bock and crystal malt
Chicken baked with dried apricots and wheat bock
Beef roasted in Christmas beer
Good Beers for Cooking
Beer Style
Character in Cooking
Brown Ale
Soft complex toastiness
Oktoberfest
Sweetish, caramelly, mellow
Porter
Rich, creamy; softer versions not bitter
Weissbier
Delicate but flavorful, not bitter
Doppelbock
Very rich and sweet—good for basting
Wheat Bock
Unique spiciness, plenty of caramel character
Lambic
Acidic, full of unique aromas
Fruit Lambics-Cherry (Kriek) Raspberry (Framboise)
Acidic, bursting with fruitiness
Imperial stout
Very rich and full flavored—great in chocolate desserts
Flanders Sour Brown
Sharply acidic, complex, fruity aromas
Belgian Dubbel
Rich, malty, uniquely spicy
Belgian Tripel
Intense, crisp, spicy
Rauchbier
Sweetish, with mellow beechwood smoke
Munich Helles
Pure, clean maltiness without a lot of bitterness
Cafe, Zatec, Czech Republic
Despite the unintended message, things there are looking up.
Chapter 22
W
HAT’S
N
EXT?
W
e homebrewers are as varied
as the beers we brew, and we’re
lucky to be involved in a hobby that offers us so many different ways of enjoying it. If
I’ve accomplished even half of my mission, this book has opened your eyes to some
facets of brewing you hadn’t considered before, and given you some ideas as to where
to go next to keep growing as a brewer. From engineering to art, plus a host of
tangential paths, there’s a whole splendiferous world of beer out there. So get going.
The future of beer is what we make it.
Get an education Your desire to get the details exactly right will ultimately lead
you on a quest for more authoritative sources. Fortunately for us, generations of really
smart people have dedicated their lives to unraveling the inner mysteries of the
brewing arts, and their work is out there for us to profit from in the form of books,
journal articles, lectures, and educational courses of varying lengths and levels. The
old books are always interesting and usually useful. Since we’re brewing on a
somewhat primitive level compared to a modern 25-million barrel production
brewery, there is much of practical value for us going back as far as one hundred and
fifty years or more. The newer books are useful as well, especially in the areas of
yeast and biochemistry.
Seminars and conferences can be extremely useful. Many of the larger
competitions and other gatherings of homebrewing feature guest speakers. Usually
these sessions are fascinating as well as useful, and have the added benefit of being
able to ask questions and engage in conversations with others who have experience in
a subject. I shouldn’t need to mention that these gatherings of homebrewers are a blast
as well, and put you in contact with many new beers and friends. If you’re part of an
active club, you might even consider staging your own mini-conference. It’s a lot of
work, but it’s a fun way to network with brewers with all kinds of interests on many
different levels.
There are more professional ways to pursue a brewing education. Independent
brewing schools such as the Siebel Institute and university-affiliated programs such as
the University of California at Davis offer programs of varying length, right up to a
four-year or advanced degree, the ultimate being the beer engineering diploma from
Weihenstephan in Germany. Many homebrewers sign up for the short programs; the
longer ones require a commitment of time and money that pretty much limits them to
those advancing a career rather than a hobby. Web-based learning programs such as
the Siebel/Doemens World Brewing Academy are becoming ever more substantial.
Teach someone to brew Besides being the honorable thing to do, this may actually
have tangible benefits. First, your new brewer trainee is probably one of your non-
brewing pals who’s been shamelessly mooching off of you, so this will help take the
pressure off your brewhouse. If you help him get going, you can be sure his beer will
be worth mooching back. Just as important, you actually improve your own
understanding by having to explain a thing to someone else.
Enter some competitions Sure, you can pass your beer around and ask people what
they think, but it is impossible to get a straight answer out of them. Even if they don’t
feel the need to be polite, you’re not likely to get the kind of thoughtful feedback you
need and that a competition assessment delivers. Beers are judged according to
category by experienced judges, and a detailed score sheet is filled out and returned to
you. Don’t hyperventilate over the numerical score; this can vary widely. But do pay
close attention to the descriptions, category fit, flaws, off-flavors, and other
comments. Look for patterns that may indicate opportunities for improvement, and
take them to heart. Work on your problem areas. Keep brewing, keep improving, and
sooner or later you’ll strike gold.
Become a beer judge This takes some discipline and effort, but can put you at a
much higher level as a brewer. It just makes sense. How can you improve your brews
if you don’t have the experience and knowledge to make critical evaluations of styles,
technique, off-flavors, or other important aspects of brewing? The Beer Judge
Certification Program
is a volunteer-run organization that tests and
certifies judges at several levels as well as sanctioning homebrew competitions. There
is a wealth of information on their Web site. I should mention that they offer a
detailed study guide for the exam, and the style guidelines are very helpful to brewers
of any level. Many brewers get together and form a study group, then meet regularly
at a bar with a good international selection and taste their way through the twenty-six
categories and numerous substyles. For study hall, not too bad!
Learn to weld I know this a radical idea, but you can
help save the dying Industrial Arts departments in this
country by signing up for an adult/continuing education
class. There may be a class available in your area; these
usually give you access to a full metal shop as well as
welding equipment at a ridiculously low price. You
won’t be doing sanitary welds in stainless for a while,
but the usefulness of the stuff you make will amaze you
and everyone around you.
Hang with the beeries I have made this point before, but it bears repeating. Beer is a
fundamentally social product, and segregating yourself from the larger homebrew
community deprives you of one of its most important joys. No matter where you live,
there are ways to get involved at a local or global level. There’s no excuse in being
shy. Without a doubt, homebrewers are the friendliest species on the planet, maybe in
the whole universe. So make that call, click that Web button, or just show up at the
next meeting with a six of your latest creation and get ready to be welcomed into the
ancient and honorable (and fun, too!) community of brewers.
Become a yeast hunter Tracking down exotic yeast from the far corners of the
brewing world gives some people exquisite pleasure, and the skill set you’ll develop
trying to do it successfully will serve you well in dealing with this most important
aspect of brewing. Most yeast hunters have a little kit with the vials and other gear
needed to bring ’em back alive.
Homebrewers have a large hand in running some of the most well-respected beer
festivals.
Get into events Whether you’re just a volunteer server, or the chairman of the event,
beer tastings, dinners, and festivals can be enjoyable and rewarding for homebrewers
and other beer lovers. It’s a chance to help spread your passion for beer and brewing,
as well as an opportunity to rub elbows with pro brewers and other important players
in the beer community. Plus, there’s the beer. Established festivals are always looking
for people to help at every level, although you may have to pay your dues pouring
beer before you get on the organizing committee.
Just get in touch and offer up your time, enthusiasm, and expertise.
For homebrew clubs, commercially-oriented beer tastings and festivals offer a
number of benefits. First, they offer a chance to help out the beer community in a
meaningful way. Public events attract the kind of people who may be interested in
becoming homebrewers, so they can be a great recruiting tool. Properly run events can
provide a considerable boost to the club treasury. And despite the hard work required,
the challenge of staging a tasting can bond the organizers together into deep and
lasting friendships.
Even as a spectator, beer tastings and festivals are just about the best way to learn
about—and enjoy—beer. Many of the events in this country and elsewhere are major
events worthy of a long journey and such a beerfest can be the centerpiece of any
vacation. Start your trip at the fest if possible, then you can mine the experts you meet
about what else you should see while you’re in the area.
Fabulous Beer Festivals
Great American Beer Festival®
Denver, September/October
Great British Beer Festival
London, August
Oktoberfest
Munich, September
Mondiale de la Bière
Montréal, June
Bokbierfestival
Amsterdam, October
Oregon Brewers Festival
Portland, OR, June
Real Ale Fest
Chicago, March
Great Taste of the Midwest
Madison, WI, August
The Great Alaska Beer & Barleywine Festival
Anchorage, January
Colorado Brewfest
Fort Collins, CO, June
GOING PRO: SO YOU WANT TO WEAR THE RUBBER
BOOTS
This isn’t every homebrewer’s dream, despite the glamour of hefting heavy bags
of malt and hanging around for long hours in steamy brewhouses and dank
conditioning rooms. Oh, and did I mention low pay? Well, despite all this, the right
brewer’s job offers a certain freedom and opportunity for self expression, plus the
chance to hang around with attractive members of the brewpub wait staff, many of
whom have fascinating personal problems. Honestly, of all the people I know,
brewers spend the least time moping and whining about their jobs.
Breweries hire people of all skill levels. There is a lot of grunt work, especially
endless amounts of cleaning. So if you want to escape up to the next rung, a little
brewing education will go a long way. Being an accomplished homebrewer is a good
start, but either doing an apprenticeship in a brewery or taking one of the professional
programs mentioned previously (or both) would round out your résumé and give you
a shot at a more respectable, less back-breaking job. Knowing your way around a petri
dish might even land you a cushy lab job at a production brewery.
The ideal situation for many brewers is to own a piece of the action. This puts
you right up there with the rest of the management, sharing the risks and rewards of
the business. Scary, yes, but it’s a chance to build something of value as your career
develops, rather than just being the employee. Starting your own place from the
ground up is another possibility; just about every microbrewery in the country began
as a gleam in some homebrewer’s eye. You can probably guess that this is a difficult
thing to do, and besides losing the family fortune, there’s that problem whereby the
fun gets sucked out of something when it goes from being a hobby to a business.
Despite that, there are still opportunities to thrive for people with vision, creativity,
and solid business skills.
A FINAL EXHORTATION
If you’ve made it all the way to the end of this book, you have a fair idea of some
of the breadth and depth of brewing through the ages. I hope you have found
inspiration, as I have, from the creativity and resourcefulness of brewers both modern
and ancient. Use the tools available here and elsewhere to develop your own voice as
a radical brewer. Brew to surprise, to thrill, to seduce, to shock, to satiate. This is the
power of radical brewing. Brew with seriousness, but don’t forget to have fun. Pour
your heart and head into your brewing and something wonderful will always appear in
the glass.
I raise a radical brew to you.
HOMEBREW WRECKED MY LIFE
I’ve been brewing night and day for just about a year,
Seven hundred batches of a nectar strong and clear.
I’ve filled up every corner of this home that was so sweet,
But now my honey’s gone and set my kettle on the street.
I spent the baby’s trust fund on a tank of stainless steel,
And sold the faithful doggie just to put the thing on wheels.
I guess I’d do it differently if I could do it over,
I’d skip the wheels and get myself a bottler with rover.
Homebrew wrecked my life today,
This brewer’s name is mud.
I’ll give my brewing vats away,
And buy a case of Bud.
I’ve lined the walls with plastic, and epoxied all the floors,
Put in ultraviolet lasers to protect the beer from spores.
And everything was going great, the brewing never stopped,
Until my sweetie found her walk-in closet filled with hops.
Homebrew was a blast until it finally wrecked my life,
Nineteen thousand bottles really aggravates a wife.
And when they started goin’ off, they tore the house apart,
Now my baby’s gone and wrecked the mash tun of my heart.
Homebrew wrecked my life today,
I’ve brewed my final batch.
I’ll leave behind the homebrew way,
And start a garden patch.
Now I’m on the sidewalk with my last remaining beer,
The neighborhood is quiet, all the windows dark from fear.
A soggy pile of bricks and glass commemorates my house,
And me without a carboy or a hop back or a spouse.
I’m sorry for the state of things, you know I really am.
My passion was excessive, and my plans a little grand.
I’d gladly make it up to her, if I could find some malt,
I’d brew her up a special batch directly from my heart.
Homebrew wrecked my life today,
She walked right out that door.
But since my baby’s gone to stay,
I might brew just one more...
— R.M.
A
PPENDIX
LINKING UP
Due to the transitory nature of many Web sites, I have
decided it is better to keep an online links page rather than list
a lot of dead URLs.
Thescope,depth,andaccuracyofWeb-based
information continues to grow. I found a large number of sites
that were helpful to me during the course of researching this
book, and you may also find them interesting and useful as
well. And as I have stressed already, the quality and
enjoyment of the brewing hobby will likely be heightened if
you connect with others with similar passions, so there are
lots of links to various organizations on the Radical Brewing
page. Also, the uncommon ingredients in some of the recipes
in this book can usually be found at online retailers.
For the Radical Brewing Web links, go to:
The following is a list of categories of sites that radicalbrewing.com will link
to:
Academic sites dealing with beer and brewing subjects, including transcribed and
facsimile texts
Sites on spices, herbs, grains, and other related materials used in brewing
Translation and conversion resources
Hobbyist sites on brewing and meadmaking
Online forums for brewing and related subjects
Beer and brewing organizations, homebrew clubs, and competitions
Commercial beer and homebrewing festivals
Manufacturers and retailers of ingredients and supplies
In addition, there are a few other useful items available at radicalbrewing.com:
Downloadable brewing worksheet
Photographic tour of the Buckapound Brewery
In time, some additional recipes
Info and ordering of my hard-to-find first book, The Brewer’s Companion
BREWING ORGANIZATIONS
American Homebrewers Association:
Association of Brewers (craft brewing trade assoc.):
Beer Judge Certification Program:
Home Brew Digest (online discussion group):
Campaign for Real Ale (British enthusiast/preservation group):
Home Wine & Beer Trade Association:
LIST OF RECIPES
Names in solid black are complete recipes.
Name in shaded text indicates abbreviated recipe.
[Your Name Here]—Your First Radical Brew
Tire-Biter Bitter
Bambi’s Best Blonde Ale
Mister Squinty Contemporary Summer Ale
Summer Ale, What-if Version, c. 1830
Wee Twinkling Winkie Scottish Sparkling Ale
Telltale Ale—American Sparkling Ale
Rye PA
Fifty-Fifty American Pale Ale
IRA-India Red Ale
Belgian-American IPA
Jaggery Pale Ale
India Cream Ale
Vatted Stale IPA
Old Nut Case Brown Ale
Stout Butt Beer, 1720
1776 Porter
1850 Export Porter
Modern British ‘Mild’ or Brown Porter
Modern American ‘Robust’ Porter
Fundamental Stout + 12 variations
Polka Dot Pilsener
Monk-y Business Munich Dunkel
Doktor Schnurrbart Schwarzbier
Pilsnerbock
Festbock
Schwartzbock
Cherrybock
Yellow Diamond Belgian Pale Ale
Fallen Angel Strong Pale
Saisoon Buffoon
Hoosonfurst Abbey Singel
Two Bits Abbey Dubbel
Three-Nipple Tripel
Dragon’s Milk October Beer
My Old Flame Barley Wine
Running Dog Imperial Pale Ale
Ignoble Doble-Doble
Towards a Portlike Beer
Garden of Wheat’n Bavarian Weizen
Hose Your Nose Gose
Indian Popcorn Ale
Wild Rizen
Wild Rice ESB
Triticale Tripel
Roggenbier
Oatmeal Cookie Ale
Electric Aunt Jemima Maple Buckwheat Ale
Amazing Daze American Wheat Beer
Pink Menace Red Rice Pils
Dick’s Elixir Wheat Porter
Pudgy McBuck’s Celebrated Cocoa Porter
Springtime Herbed Ale
Chocolate Mint Stout
Christmas Ale
Twelve Beers of Christmas
1. Caramel Quadrupel
2. Spiced Cherry Dubbel
3. Spiced Dunkel Weizenbock
4. Juniper Rye Bock
5. Fruitcake Old Ale
6. Saffron Tripel
7. Christmas Gruit
8. Honey Ginger IPA
9. Crabapple Lambicky Ale
10. Gingerbread Ale
11. Spiced Bourbon Stout
12. Abbey Weizen
Chai Brown Ale
Black Pepper Porter
Mister Boing Boing Cherry Barley Wine
‘London Ale’ Adapted from John Tuck, 1822
Dark Night Tangerine Porter
Ray Spangler’s Pumpkin Spice Beer
Headless Horseman Pumpkin Barley Wine
Holy Mole Bock
Chipotle Parched Corn Amber Ale
Smoked Habañero Amber Lager
Reishi Sumo Stout
Chaga Sahti
A Thousand Saints Truffle Tripel
Nirvana Chanterelle Ale
Hoppy Amber Wit
Abbey Weiss
Pilsener Wine
Wheat Wine
Grätzer, Real Version
Grätzer, Cheaters Version
Dingelheimer’s Lichtenhainer
Gottlandsdrickå
Toffee Ale
Black Ship Pirate Stout
Big Stinky & Little Stinky: a Parti-Gyle Recipe
Thomas Vista’s Hop God Ale
Wit Guy White Ale
Nit-Wit Strong Wit
Claude of Zeply Amber Strong Wit
Major Blankety-Blank India Wit Ale
Wyse Foole Wit Wine
This Old Barrel Flanders Sour Brown Ale
Lambic
Do It To It Gruit
Heather Ale
Sahti
Devon White Ale
Kvick Kvality Kvass
Giant Ale of Cerne Abbas
Oh, Your Highness Windsor Ale
Welsh Ale, c 1800
Kotbüsser
Voyage Étrange (French Export beer, c 1800)
Sweet Lips Colonial Ale
Thomas Jefferson’s Pale Ale
Pennsylvania Swankey
‘Call Me Al” —an Islamically-Inspired Mead
Mjød
Chuck’s Atomic Fireball Mead
Crancrabapple Mead
‘Phunny You Don’t Look Phrygian’ Raisin Honey Beer
Bronze Age Bragot
An English Bragot, c. 1500
Buckwheat Honey Black Beer
‘A Perfect Ten’ Wheaten Honeywine
Ruby You Hot Little... Schwarzbracket
Crystal Malt Old Bracket
Carinthian Steinbier
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Fredrick Accum, A Treatise on Adulterations of Food (London: Longman, Hurst,
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John P. Arnold and Frank Penman, A History of the Brewing Industry and Brewing
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History and Geography of the Cultivated Plant (Nuremberg: Joseph Barth &
Sohn, 1994)
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Changing World 1300-1600, (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press,
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Curiosities of Ale and Beer, (London: Spring House, 1965 reprint of the original
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P. Boulin, Manuel Practique de la Fabrication de la Bière, (Paris: Bernard Tignol,
1880)
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(Hanover, NH: The University press of New England, 1978)
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(London: Chapman & Hall Ltd., 1957)
Samuel Child, Every Man His Own Brewer, fourth edition, (London: 1794?)
Transcribed by James Sumner, January 2002
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Cuthell and Martin, and J. Walker, 1804)
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2003)
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Parey, 1910)
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Online scans thanks to Jim Liddil
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Brewers Publications, 1997)
George Fix, Principles of Brewing Science, (Boulder, CO: Brewers Publications,
1989)
John Gardner (Editor), The Brewer, Distiller and Wine Manufacturer, (Philadelphia:
P. Blakiston, Son & Co., 1883)
Guinard, Jean Xavier, Lambic, Classic Beer Styles Series (Boulder, CO: Brewers
Publications, 1990)
H. Lloyd Hind, Brewing, Science & Practice, (London: Chapman & Hall Ltd. 1938)
J.S. Hough, Briggs, R. Stevens, Malting & Brewing Science, (London: Chapman &
Hall Ltd. 1971)
Michael Jackson, The Beer Companion, (Philadelphia, PA: Running Press 1993)
Michael Jackson, The Great Beers of Belgium (CODA, Antwerp, Belgium: 1992)
Mark Edward Lender and James Kirby Martin, Drinking in America: A History,
Second Edition, (New York: The Free Press, 1982, 1987)
Carl J. Lintner, Die Bayrische Bierbrauer, (Munich: Verlag von F. H. Gummi, 1867)
Oscar Mendelsohn, Dictionary of Drinks and Drinking (New York: Hawthorne
Books, Inc., 1965)
Alexander Morrice, Practical Treatise on the Brewing of Various Sorts of Malt
Liquors, (London: Printed for Sherwood, Neely, and Jones, 1819)
Randy Mosher, The Brewer’s Companion (Seattle, WA: Alephenalia Publications,
Second Edition, 1995)
James Lightbody, Every Man His Own Gauger, (London: Printed for G. C., [1695])
U. J. Olberg, Der vollkommene Brau-und Malzmeister, (Vienna and Leipzig: U.
Hartleben’s Verlag, 1937)
Annie Perrier-Robert and Charles Fontaine, Beer by Belgium, Belgium by Beer
(Esch/Alzette Luxembourg: 1996)
Roger Protz, The Ale Trail: A celebration of the revival of the world’s oldest style,
(Orpington, Kent, UK: Eric Dobby Publishing Ltd, 1995)
Christian Rätsch, Urbock: Bier jenzeits vom Hopfen und Malz, (Licerne Switzerland,
EMB-Service für Verleger, 1996)
Cindy Renfrow, A Sip Through Time: A Collection of Old Brewing Recipes, (Cindy
Renfrow, 1994)
John Richardson, The Philosophical Principles of the Science of Brewing, (Printed for
G. C. and J. Robinson, London (and others), 1788)
Hermann Rüdiger, Die Bierbrauerei und Die Malzextract-Fabrication, (Vienna:U.
Hartleben’s verlag, 1887)
George Saintsbury, Notes on a Cellar-Book, (New York: The MacMillan Company,
1933)
Pamela Sambrook, Country House Brewing in England 1500-1900, (London and Rio
Grande, OH: The Hambledon Press, 1996)
Franz Schönfeld, Obergärige Bier und ihre Herstellung (Berlin, Verlag von Paul
Parey, 1938)
Ken Schramm, The Compleat Meadmaker, (Boulder, CO: Brewers Publications,
2003)
Gualtiero Simonetti, edited by Stanley Schuler, Simon & Schuster’s Guide to Herbs
and Spices, (New York: A Fireside Book published by Simon & Schuster, 1990)
Julius E. Thausing, Die Theorie und Praxis der Malzbereitung und Bierfabrikation,
third edition, (Leipzig: J. M. Gebhardt’s Verlag, 1882)
Gallus Thoman, American Beer: Glimpses of Its History and Description of Its
Manufacture, (New York: United States Brewers’ Association, 1909)
John Tuck, Private Brewer’s Guide to the Art of Brewing Ale and Porter, Second
Edition (London: Printed for W. Simpkin and R. Marshall, 1822; Facsimile
edition by Zymoscribe)
Ladislaus von Wagner, Handbuch der Bierbrauerei, (Weimar, Germany: Bernhard
Friedrich Voigt, 1877)
Edward Whitaker, Directions for Making Malt Liquors, (London, Printed for J. Nutt,
1700)
William Worth, Cerevesia Comes: or the New and True Art of Brewing, (London:
Printed for J. Taylor and S. Clement, 1692)
Wahl, Robert & Max Henius, A Handy Book of Brewing, (Chicago: Wahl-Henius
Institute, 1901)
Richard A. Young and Thomas J. Glover, Measure for Measure (Littleton, CO: Blue
Willow, Inc., 1996)
I
NDEX
A | B | C | D | E
F | G | H | I | J
K | L | M | O | P
Q | R | S | T | U
V | W | Y | Z
A
Acetaldehyde, 74
Acetic, 74
Acids, organic, and bacteria, 20, 141. See also Brettanomyces, lambic, wild yeasts
acetic, acetobacteria, 20, 66, 74, 177, 212-213, 215
lactic, lactobacillus, 75, 102, 121, 193, 205, 212-213
hops and, 46, 53
pediococcus, 75, 102, 217, 219
in sparkling ale, 85-86
Adjunct (or cereal) mash, 205-206
adjunct mash procedure, 205
American adjunct mash procedure, 40, 139
Adjuncts, 13, 138-147. See also head retention, individual types
effect on beer’s body of, 80
tips for using in brewing with, 140
Aeration. See wort aeration
Aging of beer, 23, 35
and effect on hop character, 60, 65, 70
and oxidation, 74-75
and relation to beer color, 63
Alcohol content, 17. See also attenuation, original gravity, strong beers
measurement units for, 18
preservative power of alcohol, 46
Alcohols, 20
Aldehydes, 20
Ales, 9, 10, 17, 66. See also individual styles
fermentation and conditioning temperatures for, 27
serving temperature for, 22
storage of, 22
Alpha acid, 27, 35, 46, 47, 48, 70. See also hops
and calculating hop bitterness, 64-65
and factors determining utilization, 64, 65
Alsembier, 209
Altbier, 51, 66, 80
Amaranth, 141. See also adjuncts
Amber (old English beer), 253
American Handy Book, Wahl-Henius Institute, 85, 133, 265
American Homebrewers Association, 77, 278, 282-283, 284
American-style lager, 40
Anchor Brewing Company (and Fritz Maytag), 14, 152, 166, 272. See also steam beer
Arnold, John P., The Origin and History of Beer and Brewing, 238-239
Aromas in beer, 20, 27-28, 43, 53. See also evaluation of beer, individual classes
off-aromas, 20, 74-75
Arthur, Tomme, 136
Attenuation, 59, 62. See also fermentation
B
Bacteria. See acids, organic; Brettanomyces; wild yeasts
Balance, 19, 60. See also flavor, evaluation of beer
in fruit beers, 176
Barley, 6, 8, 12, 14, 16, 42. See also adjuncts, malt, malting
unmalted, 141
Barley wine, 21, 61, 129, 250. See also parti-gyle
Headless Horseman Pumpkin Barley Wine, 183
Mister Boing Boing Cherry Barley Wine, 178
My Old Flame Barley Wine, 132
solera, 280
Bavarian weizen. See weizen
Beer, definition of, 16
Beer engine, 69. See also real ale
Beer styles, about, 188. See also individual style names
Beer tasting event,
hosting a, 285-286
themes for, 286
Belgian abbey, 122-125. See also Belgian beers, Trappist beers
dubbel, 122, 123, 299
serving temperature for, 23
Spiced Cherry Dubbel, 166
Two Bits Abbey Dubbel, 124
quadruple, 122
Caramel Quadrupel, 166
single, 122
Hoosonfurst Abbey Singel, 123
tripel, 101, 122, 123, 124, 196, 299
Saffron Tripel, 168
serving temperature for, 23
A Thousand Saints Truffle Tripel, 186
Three-Nipple Tripel, 125
Triticale Tripel, 149
Belgian beers, 20, 116, 204-221. See also individual styles
malt-beer technique, 209
Belgian pale ale, 116-118
serving temperature for, 23
Yellow Diamond Belgian Pale Ale, 117
Belgian sour brown ale. See Flanders sour brown ale
Belgian strong pale ale, 118-119
Fallen Angel Strong Pale, 119
Berliner weisse, 53, 146, 147, 193, 259. See also wheat beer
Beta acid, 46
Bickerdyke, John, 100, 255, 274
Bière de Mars, 210, 217
“The Birth of Beer,” 7
Bitter, 53, 78-80. See also extra-special bitter
adjunct grains used in, 147
Tire-Biter Bitter, 79
Blonde ale, 80-83
Bambi’s Best Blonde Ale, 81
serving temperature for, 23
Bock, 113-115, 299. See also dunkel
Cherrybock, 115
Holy Mole Bock, 183-184
Festbock, 114
Juniper Rye Bock, 167
Pilsenerbock, 113-114
Roggenbier, bock version of, 149
Schwartzbock, 114-115
Spiced Dunkel Weizenbock, 167
Body, in beer, 17, 79-80. See also mouthfeel
Boiling, 32
and DMS, 74
hop utilization and, 64
and relation to beer color, 63
to fake decoction, 111
Bottle conditioning, 67-68
and fruit, 177
Bourbon, flavoring wood with, 103. See also wood aging
Spiced Bourbon Stout, 169
Boyce, Chuck, 271
Braggot, 267, 272-275, 277. See also honey, mead
Bronze Age Bragot, 273-274
Crystal Malt Old Bracket, 277
English bragot, 274-275
An English Bragot, c. 1500, 275
Ruby You Hot Little... Schwarzbracket, 277
Welsh Bragawd, 274
Brettanomyces (Bret), 86, 102, 131, 219, 280. See also acids, organic; lambics;
Trappist beers; wild yeasts
The Brewer: A Familiar Treatise on the Art of Brewing, 97
Brewing in the wild, 287
Brewing process, 26-27, 31-33
Brown ale, 44, 92-93
Gordon Strong’s Chai Brown Ale, 170
Oatmeal Cookie Ale, 149
Old Nut Case Brown Ale, 93
Broyhan Alt, 257
Brune d’Aarschot, 216
Buckapound Brewery, 288-295, 295
Buckwheat, 141. See also adjuncts
Buckwheat Honey Black Beer, 276
Electric Aunt Jemima Maple Buckwheat Ale, 149
Butt beer, 93, 94
Stout Butt Beer, 1720, 95
C
Calagione, Sam, 272
Calcium chloride, 55
Capper, 29, 30, 30
Caramelization. See also decoction mash, Maillard reaction
kettle, 63, 129, 199
of sugar, 199
Carbon dioxide, 17. See also bottle conditioning, carbonation, draft beer, priming
blanket, 67, 69, 177
as by-product of yeast, 27, 66
removal from water of, 55
Carbonation, 17, 28, 80. See also evaluation of beer, mouthfeel
force, 68, 287
measurement units for, 18
Cask ale. See real ale
Caves (Kaves) or Liers Bier, 209
Celis, Pierre, 152-153, 204, 208
Chang, 16, 147. See also rice
Charts
Adjunct Mash Procedure, 205
Ale and Beer Fermentation Temperatures, 27
American Adjunct Mash Procedure, 139
Beer by the Numbers, 62
Beer Serving Temperatures, 23
Belgian Malt-Beer Technique, 209
Calculated vs. Actual Color, 63
Campden Tablet Dosing by Must, 269
Chiles for Brewing, 183
Factors Affecting Starch Conversion and Wort Fermentability, 26
German 3-Mash Decoction, 110
German 2-Mash Decoction, 109
Hop Bitterness Chart, 31
Hop Usage Methods, 53
Hop Varietal Aroma Character, 48
Hop Variety Characteristics, 49-51
Maillard Chemistry for Beginners and Experts, 43
Malt Color by the Numbers, 43
Malt Types for Brewing, 44-45
October Beer Ingredient Quantities (per 5 gallons), 133
Porter Gravities, 1725-1887, 98
Priming (corn sugar) Quantities per 5-Gallon Batch for Various Carbonation
Levels, 68
Starches and Other Polymers of Glucose in Beer, 19
Time and Temperature for Several Malt Types, 225
Types of Beer Brewed From Brown Malt, 1734, 94
Typical Honey Analysis, 269
Units of Measurement in Beer, 18
Wagner, 1877 (Handbuchder Bierbrauerei) Porter Formulas, 99
Cheesy, 74
Chicha, 16, 141, 142, 147. See also corn
Chiles, 160, 183-184, 183, 184
Chipotle Parched Corn Amber Ale, 184
Holy Mole Bock, 183-184
Smoked Habañero Amber Lager, 184
Chill haze, 17, 26, 44. See also adjuncts, proteins
China ale, 254
Chlorophenol, 74. See also phenol
Christmas beers, 164-169. See also spices and herbs
Abbey Weizen, 169
Caramel Quadrupel, 166
Christmas Ale, 165
Christmas Gruit, 168-169
Crabapple Lambicky Ale, 169
Fruitcake Old Ale, 168
Gingerbread Ale, 169
Honey Ginger IPA, 169
Juniper Rye Bock, 167
Saffron Tripel, 168
Smoked Wassail, 156
Spiced Bourbon Stout, 169
Spiced Cherry Dubbel, 166
Spiced Dunkel Weizenbock, 167
CIP unit, 293
Closed blow-off, 67, 67
Clubs, homebrewing, 278-284. See also competition
list of activities for, 278-279
Cocoa. See spices and herbs (seasonings and flavorings)
Coffee. See spices and herbs (seasonings and flavorings)
Cold break, 27, 32, 47. See also proteins
Cold conditioning. See lagering
Color in beer, 16-17, 42-44, 46, 62
calculating, 62-63
measurement units for, 18
Competitions, homebrewing, 284-286, 301
Beer Judge Certification Program, 77, 284, 301
Cooking, using beer and beer ingredients in, 297-299
Coolship, 26, 27, 218
Cooper (beer style), 100
Corn (or maize), 9, 14, 16, 141, 261, 262-263. See also adjunct mash, adjuncts, chicha
Chipotle Parched Corn Amber Ale, 184
Indian Popcorn Ale, 148
Corn sugar. See priming
Cornell, Martyn, Beer: The Story of the Pint, 94
Cream ale, 90-91. See also blonde ale
Hinky Dink India Cream Ale, 90-91
serving temperature for, 23
D
Daniels, Ray, 63, 284
Danziger jopenbier, 136, 254-255
DeClerck, Jean, 118, 205
Decoction mash, 39, 40-41, 44, 108-111. See also infusion mash, mashing
boiling to fake, 111
and brewing wheat beers, 145-146
double, 108-109
and efficiency, 62
Pilsener mash, 110
single, 110
triple, 55, 105-106, 108-109, 109-110
Devon white ale, 246-247
Devon White Ale (recipe), 246
Dextrins, 19, 28, 45. See also enzymes
Diacetyl, 20, 59, 73, 74
Diest, 209
Di-methyl sulfide (DMS), 32, 34, 73, 74, 75
Dorchester beer, 250-251
Giant Ale of Cerne Abbas, 251
Double beer (English), 130, 135
Ignoble Doble-Doble, 135
Dough-in. See mashing
Draft beer, making, 68, 68. See also carbonation
Dreimaischverfahren. See decoction mash
Dunkel (dark lager), 39, 79, 111-112
Monk-y Business Munich Dunkel, 111
serving temperature for, 23
Spiced Dunkel Weizenbock, 167
Dutch black buckwheat beer, 255
E
Ebulum, 172
Eckhardt, Fred, 73, 284
Education, beer, 300-302. See also Weihenstephan
Efficiency. See mash efficiency
Einfachbier (single beer), 259
Ellis, William, London & Country Brewer, 94, 263
“Entire” brewing, 94, 95, 229. See also parti-gyle
Enzymes, 26, 28, 79-80, 108-109, 110. See also malting, mashing, proteins, protein
rest, starch, saccharification rest
effect of water on, 55
in saliva, 16, 57
types of, 28
Equipment, homebrewing, 29, 29-30. See also illustration, 295;
individual items
materials used to make, 289-292
stainless steel, 289-291
Erntebier (harvest beer), 259
Esters, 20, 75
Evaluation of beer, 72-77. See also competition, flavor, glassware
adaptation/potentiation and, 75-76
aroma and, 72-73, 77
chemical sensations and, 73
concentration effects and, 73
effect of appearance on, 73, 77
masking and, 75
matrix effects and, 73, 75
mouthfeel and, 73, 77
off-flavors and aromas, 74-75
psychological aspects of, 76
taste and, 72, 73, 77
variable thresholds and, 73
Extra-special bitter, 43
Wild Rice ESB, 148
Extract brewing, 36-37
adding steeped grain to, 32
boosting hop quantities in, 36-37
first wort hopping simulation in, 53
and high-gravity beer, 126
F
Fermentability, factors affecting, 26
Fermentation, 27, 67. See also alcohol content, yeast
one- vs. two-stage, 66-67
Fermentation lock, 29, 33, 67
Festivals, beer, 282, 302
Filter bed (or grain bed), 39, 40-41
Filtration (and finings), 80
and relation to beer color, 63
Fittings, 292, 292
Fix, George and Laurie, 77
Flanders red sour beer, 199
Flanders sour brown ale, 74, 212-216, 299
as a base for fruit beer, 215
obscure variations of, 216
This Old Barrel Flanders Sour Brown Ale, 216
Flavor, 19, 27-28, 42-43, 53. See also balance, evaluation of beer
off-flavors, 74-75
Float switch, 293, 294, 294
Flocculation, 59. See also yeast
Food and beer pairings, 296-299
Fruit, 172-181. See also chiles, individual beer styles, mead, spices and herbs
adding acids to, 176
adding to sour beer, 215
citrus beers, ideas for, 180
concentrates, 177
extracts, 177-178
fruit beers, ideas for, 175
history of use in beer, 172-173
juice, 177
“More Citrus Fruits for Brewing,” 180
pectins and, 177
tips for brewing with, 176-178
types of apples, 175
apricots, 174, 175
bananas, 175
blackberries, 174
blueberries, 174, 176
cherries, 172, 174, 176
Cherrybock, 115
Mister Boing Boing Cherry Barley Wine, 178
Spiced Cherry Dubbel, 166
citrus, 178-181
bergamot, 180
blood oranges, 180
grapefruits, 180
key limes, 180
kumquats, 180
lemons, 180
limes, 180
mandarin, 180
orange peel, oranges, 117, 120, 178-181, 179, 206
pomelo, 180
tangelo, 180
tangerine, 180
Dark Night Tangerine Porter, 181
dates, 174, 175
elderberries, 176
figs, 175
grapes, 175
guanabana, 175
guava, 175
mamey, 175
mango, 175
papaya, 175
passionfruit, 175
peaches, 174, 176
pears, 175
pineapples, 175
plums, 175
pomegranates, 175
raspberries, 173, 174
strawberries, 175, 176-177
tamarind, 175
“Futurale,” 263
G
Gambrinus, 25
German porter, 112, 260
Wagner, 1877 (Handbuch der Bierbrauerei) Porter Formulas, 99
Gilbert, John, 83
Glassware
in Belgium, 21
for serving beer, 21-22
for tasting beer, 22, 285
use of, historically, 21
Goaty/sweaty (off-flavor and aroma), 75
Gods and goddesses of beer and brewing, 8, 11
Gose, 55, 80, 146, 147. See also witbier
Hold Your Nose Gose, 148
Gotlandsdrickå, 159, 194
Gotlandsdrickå (recipe), 195
Grains, 16, 17. See also adjuncts, individual types
converting all-grain recipes to extract plus mini-mash, 37
grinding, 40
roasting (toasting), 102, 224-225
time and temperature for malt types, 225
smoked, 102
traditional beers using alternate grains, 147
unmalted, 39, 40
Grant (piece of equipment), 41, 294
Grätzer, 190, 191-193, 282
Grätzer, Cheater’s Version, 192
Grätzer, Real Version, 192
Gruit (beer, spice mixture), 9, 11, 159, 163. See also koyt
Do It To It Gruit, 241
history of, 239-240
Gypsum, 55
H
Hansen, Emil Christian, 58, 234
Harrison, William, 130
Harwood, Ralph, 9, 94
Head retention, 101, 138, 141, 142. See also adjuncts, proteins
liqueurs and, 156
oranges and, 180
Heather ale, 152, 240-243. See also spices
Heather Ale (recipe), 242
Herbs. See spices and herbs
“Hierarchy of Homebrew Complication,” 36
History of beer and brewing, 6-15. See also individual beer styles and ingredients,
weights and measures
in America, 9, 10, 14, 18, 101, 261-265
microbreweries in, 10, 14-15
Prohibition in, 10, 14
in ancient times
Babylonians’ role in, 8, 236-237
Egyptians’ role in, 8, 11, 235-237
in Sumeria, 235-236
Sumerian beer terms, 235
and Thracians, 236
in Australia, 85
in Belgium, 10
monasteries and, 9, 11, 25
in Bohemia, 14
in Bronze Age, 11
and Chewsures, 238-239
in England, 9, 10, 12-13, 228-230, 234
in France, 261
in Germany, 9, 10, 12, 13, 14
and Hansa, 12, 256-257
local beer names, 257, 259-260
Greeks’ and Romans’ role in, 8, 237-238
industrialization and, 13, 15
laws and, 13, 229, 230, 234, 242, 262. See also Reinheitsgebot
in Middle Ages, 11-12
researching, 234-235
role of guilds in, 12, 257
in Scotland, 9, 84-86, 229
taxation in, 9, 10, 11, 14, 131, 229
timeline, 8-10
Vikings’ role in, 8, 12
women’s role in, 11, 12
Hogen Mogen, 252
“Homebrew Wrecked My Life,” 304
Homebrewing kits, canned, 34, 36
Honey, 57, 75, 236, 266-269. See also braggot, mead
analysis of, 269
beverages made with, 267
Buckwheat Honey Black Beer, 276
Honey Ginger IPA, 169
“A Perfect Ten” Wheaten Honeywine, 276
“Phunny You Don’t Look Phrygian” Raisin Honey Beer, 273
varieties of, 268
Hop back, 48, 52
Hop bag, 52-53, 54, 65
Hop calculator wheel, 65
Hop pellets, 47, 52, 64, 70, 105
Hop picker (machine), 47
Hop picker (person), 52
Hop pockets, 47
Hop tannins, 27, 47
Hop tea, 53, 153. See also potions, spices and herbs
Hop tokens, 48
Hops, 46-54. See also alpha acid, beta acid, brewing process, individual beer styles,
International Bitterness Units
adding to wort, 27, 48, 52, 53, 64-65
aroma (or low-alpha), 47-48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 78
aroma and, 21, 27, 46
character of varietals, 48
as a preservative, 46
bitterness and, 19, 27
bitterness chart, 31
calculating, in recipe formulation, 64-65
botany of, 46, 47
and cheesiness, 74
dry-hopping with, 21, 52, 53-54
dual use, 48, 49, 50, 51
effect of age on, 60, 65, 70
first wort hopping, 53, 99
growing, 226-227
high-alpha, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52
history of, in brewing, 9, 12, 152, 243
in England, 7, 13, 46-47, 131, 152
masking quality of, 17, 75
methods of use, 53
noble, 35, 48, 49, 51, 82
processing of, 47, 52
in spiced beers, 153
and skunkiness, 75
Thomas Vista’s Hop God Ale, 203
utilization, factors affecting, 65
varieties
Admiral, 49
Ahtanum, 48, 49
Amarillo, 48, 49
Aurora, 49
Bramling Cross, 49
Brewer’s Gold, 49
Cascade, 48, 49
Centennial, 48, 49
Chinook, 49, 52
Cluster, 49
Columbus, 49
Crystal, 48, 49
East Kent Goldings, 47, 48, 49, 50
First Gold, 49
Fuggle, 49, 50, 51
Galena, 49
Golding, 49
Hallertauer Magnum, 50
Hallertau (Hallertauer Mittelfrüh), 47, 48, 49, 50, 51
Hallertauer Tradition, 49
Herald, 50
Hersbrücker, 50
Liberty, 48, 50
Lublin/Lubelski, 50
Mt. Hood, 48, 50
Northern Brewer, 48, 50, 65, 79
Nugget, 50
Perle, 50
Phoenix, 50
Pioneer, 50
Pride of Ringwood, 50
Progress, 50
Saaz, 47, 48, 50, 51
Santiam, 48, 50
Shinsu Wase, 50
Sladek, 50
Spalt(er), 47, 50, 51
Spalter Select, 51
Sterling, 48, 51
Strisselspalt, 51
Styrian Golding, 49, 51
Taurus, 51
Tettnang(er), 47, 50, 51
Ultra, 48, 51
Vanguard, 48, 51
Whitbread Golding Variety (WGV), 51
Willamette, 51
Wye Challenger, 51
Wye Northdown, 51
Wye Target, 49, 51
Hot break, 27, 47. See also proteins
Hot side aeration, 32, 66. See also oxidation
Hydrometer, 10, 27, 32, 229, 243. See also original gravity
I
Imperial pale ale, 133-134. See also stock ale
Running Dog Imperial Pale Ale, 134
Imperial stout, 23, 52, 129, 299. See also stout
India pale ale, 52, 53, 86, 88-92
Belgian-American IPA, 89-90
Hinky Dink India Cream Ale, 90-91
Honey Ginger IPA, 169
IRA—India Red Ale, 88
Jaggery Pale Ale, 89, 90
Major Blankety-Blank India Wit Ale, 213
Vatted Stale IPA, 91
Infusion mash, 36, 39, 44, 97, 108, 109. See also decoction mash, mashing
International Bitterness Units, 31, 64, 65. See also hops
IBUs of some common commercial beers, 31
Irish moss, 27, 32, 186
Irish stout (also Guinness stout), 17, 45, 61
lactic acid in, 85-86, 102
J
Jack-Op, 216
Jefferson, Thomas, 263-264
Plug Nickel—Thomas Jefferson’s Pale Ale, 264
Judging. See competitions, evaluation of beer
K
Kalevala, 56-57
Kamut, 141. See also adjuncts
Kegs. See draft beer, real ale
Kentucky Common Beer, 265
Keptinus Alus, 245-246
Kilning. See grains, malting
Kiszlnschtschi, 245, 248
Klisischis, 248-249
Kodoulu, 195
Kölsch. See blonde ale
Kötbusser, 152, 258
Kötbusser (recipe), 258
Koyt, 256. See also gruit
Kvass, 147, 247-248
Kvick Kvality Kvass, 247
L
Lactose, effect on body of, 80
Lagering, 27, 106-107, 118
Lagers, 20, 104. See also individual styles
DMS and, 74
fermentation and conditioning temperatures for, 27
history of, 9, 10, 12
“Is Lager Beer Intoxicating? An 1874 View,” 106-107
serving temperature for, 22, 23
storage temperature for, 22, 23
Lambic, 57-58, 74, 172, 217-221, 299. See also cherries, Mars, peaches, raspberries
aging in wine barrels, 220
Crabapple Lambicky Ale, 169
faro, 156, 199, 210, 217
framboise (frambozen), 172, 173
gueuze, 217, 218
jonge lambic, 217
kriek, 172-173
lactic acid in, 85-86
Lambic (recipe), 221
mashing, 217-218
microflora, 219
pêche, 172, 173
serving temperature for, 23
tips for brewing of, 217-220
Lauter screen, 38, 41
Lichtenhainer, 193
Dingelheimer’s Lichtenhainer, 193
Light. See skunky
Liqueurs. See fruit, potions
L’Orge d’Anvers, 208
M
Maastrichts Oud, 216
McAuliffe, Jack, 14
Maier, John, 189
Maillard reaction, 43, 43, 75. See also caramelization, malting
Maize. See corn
Malt, 16, 18, 19, 42-46. See also brewing process, individual beer styles, smoking
malt
American vs. European, 61, 81
batch-to-batch variation of, 63
and color, 42-46, 79
flavors associated with, 43
history of, in brewing, 64
malt history timeline, 229
roasting, 92, 224-225
varieties
aromatic (or melanoidin), 44-45. See also melanoidins
biscuit (or amber), 43, 44, 79, 92, 103
brown, 44, 103
black patent, 45
invention of, 13, 96, 103
chocolate, 45, 79
crystal, 21, 45-46, 80, 102
homemade, 226
dextrine (Cara-Pils®), 45, 80
lager, 44
Maris Otter, 61, 78, 84, 133
mild ale, 44, 64, 79, 103
Moravian, 55
Munich, 44, 45, 61, 79
pale, 13
pale ale, 44
pale chocolate, 45
Pils (Pilsener, Pilsner), 44
roasted barley, 45
Röstmalz (Carafa), 45, 114
sour, 102
Vienna, 44
wheat. See wheat
Malt aroma chemicals. See pyrazines
Malt Color Units (MCUs), 18, 62
Malt extract, 20-21, 199. See also extract brewing
using as homebrew ingredient, 30, 34, 36, 61-62, 146
extract plus grain brewing, 32, 36-37
replacing grain with, 37
Malting, 16, 42. See also Maillard reaction, pyrazines
do-it-yourself, 223-224
drum malt roaster, 224
enzymes in, 28, 42
stages of, 223
Maltose, 19, 28
Maltotetraose, 19
Maltotriose, 19
Manioc, 16
Manometer, 41
Markham, Gervais, The English Housewife, 131
Mars/Meerts, 210, 217. See also lambic
Mash efficiency, 61-62, 63, 69
Mash-off, 109
Mashing, 26, 36, 37-38, 40, 70. See also adjunct mash, decoction mash, infusion mash
enzymes in, 28, 37
at higher temperatures, to boost body, 80
step mashing, 41, 44, 108
Mash tun (or lauter tun), 11, 26, 36, 38, 40
kuurna, 161, 245
making your own, 38, 38
Mazamorro, 147
Mead, 12, 165, 194, 266-272. See also braggot, honey, pasteurization
Call Me Al—an Islamically Inspired Mead, 269-270
Chuck’s Atomic Fireball Mead, 271
Crancrabapple Mead, 272
Dwojniak mead, 270
Herb Tea Mead, 272
history of, 266
making, 267-268
adding acids and tannins, 268
adding Campden tablets (sulfite), 268, 269
adding fruit, 175, 269
adding yeast nutrient, 267
Mead, a German Recipe, 1898, 270-271
Miodomel, 271
Mjød, 270, 271
Mjød (recipe), 270-271
Measurement units, 18. See also weights and measures
Melanoidins (color compounds), 43, 63, 136, 199
Merseburg beer, 260
Mild, 79, 95
Millet, 16, 141, 141, 147. See also adjuncts, pombe
Mills, 40
Mouthfeel, 73, 80. See also carbonation, evaluation of beer
Mumme, 159, 255-256
Munich helles, 109, 299
Munich lager, 109
Münchner, 55
Mushrooms, 184-187, 185, 186, 187
Chaga Sahti, 186
Nirvana Chanterelle Ale, 187
Reishi Sumo Stout, 185
A Thousand Saints Truffle Tripel, 186
O
Oak, 91, 91-92, 162, 215. See also wood aging
Oat malt, 142. See also adjuncts
Oatmeal stout, 142
Oats, 41, 64, 101, 141, 141. See also adjuncts
Oatmeal Cookie Ale, 149
October (and March) beer, 94, 129-131, 133, 202
Dragon’s Milk October Beer, 132
Off-flavors and aromas, 74-75
Oktoberfest/Märzen, 190, 297, 299
Old ale, 64
Fruitcake Old Ale, 168
Old Moscow brown ale (Moskovskaya), 249
Organic ingredients, 222
Original gravity, 17. See also hydrometer
calculating, 64
hop utilization and, 64
measurement units for, 18
Oxidation, 32, 74-75. See also hot side aeration
P
Pale ale, 13, 49, 50, 53
Fifty-Fifty American Pale Ale, 87
Plug Nickel—Thomas Jefferson’s Pale Ale, 264
Rye Pale Ale, 87
Partial mash, 36
Parti-gyle (split) brew, 127, 200-201. See also “entire” brewing
Big Stinky & Little Stinky: A Basic Party-Gyle Recipe, 201
Blinking, 202
Capping, 201
Satz mashing, 201-202
Pasteur, Louis, 57, 59
Pasteurization, 267, 268
Pea shells, 265
Peetermann, 147, 205, 206, 208. See also witbier
pH, 26, 27, 54, 55. See also hard water
and relation to beer color, 63
Phenol, 20, 73, 74, 75
Pilsener, 14, 41, 50, 104-107. See also decoction mash
malt used in, 45, 61, 104-105
Pilsenerbock, 113-114
Pilsner Wine, 189
Pink Menace Red Rice Pils, 150
Polka Dot Pilsner, 105
Pissionia, 147
Plastic soda bottles, using for beer, 286
Platt, Hugh, 179
Pombe, 141, 147
Porter, 44, 93-100, 103, 299. See also butt beer, German porter
Bat Bateman’s Black Pepper Porter, 171
coloring of, historically, 95, 96, 198-199
Dark Night Tangerine Porter, 181
Dick’s Elixir Wheat Porter, 151
1850 Export Porter, 98
history of, 12-13, 93-99, 112
gravities, 1725-1887, 98
malt used in, 64
Modern American “Robust” Porter, 100
Modern British Mild or Brown Porter, 99
Pudgy McBuck’s Celebrated Cocoa Porter, 157
1776 Porter, 96
Smoked Five Spice Porter, 156
Potions, 153-156. See also hop tea, spices and herbs
liqueurs, 155-156
calculating the sugar content of, 155
Potsdamer bier, 259
Pouring beer, 22
Priming, 28, 67-68, 69
quantities per five-gallon batch for various carbonation levels, 68
using liqueur for, 155
Professional, becoming a, 302-303
Protein rest, 26, 40, 44, 109, 110
Proteins, 17, 26, 27, 43. See also adjuncts, enzymes, mashing, starch
Pumps, 293, 294
Purl, 253
Pyrazines, 20-21. See also proteins
Q
Quinoa, 142. See also adjuncts
R
Racking, 32-33, 66
racking cane, 29
Rastrum, 112, 260
Ratstetter, Tim, 210
Rauchbier. See smoked beer
Real ale, 15, 22, 53, 69
serving temperature for, 23
Recipes, 307-308
Recipes, converting all-grain to extract plus mini-mash, 37
Recipes, creating, 60-69
Reinheitsgebot, 9, 14, 152, 205, 229, 256. See also history, laws
Rice, 16, 40, 44, 142, 148. See also adjuncts, chang, saké, wild rice
Pink Menace Red Rice Pils, 150
Rice hulls and wheat husks, 41, 140, 142, 145, 146, 206
Roggenbier, 147. See also rye beer
Roggenbier (recipe), 149
Rye, 6, 64, 140, 142. See also adjuncts
Rye beer, 17. See also roggenbier
Juniper Rye Bock, 167
Rye Pale Ale, 87
S
Saccharification rest, 62, 109-110. See also protein rest
Safety, in brewery, 290, 293
Sahti, 147, 161, 244-245
Chaga Sahti, 186
Sahti (recipe), 244
Saison, 119-121, 143
Saisoon Buffoon, 121
Saké, 16, 142. See also rice
Salde, 246
Sanitizing, 31-32, 34
effect of inadequate rinsing on beer, 56, 74
Scheer, Fred, 136, 172
Scheps of Breslau, 259
Schwarzbier, 112-113
Doktor Schnurrbart Schwarzbier, 113
Scotch ale, 64
Scottish wee heavy, 129
Seef, 210
Session beer, 61
Shakparo, 142
Skunky (methyl mercaptan), 23, 75
Skypeck, Chuck, 82
Small beer, 9, 130, 208, 210. See also kvass, salde
“George Washington’s Small Beer,” 264
Smoked beer, 189-191, 299. See also Gotlandsdrickå, Grätzer, Lichtenhainer
Smoked Five Spice Porter, 156
Smoked Habañero Amber Lager, 184
Smoked Wassail, 156
Smoking malt, 191, 194. See also oak
malt smoking woods, 191
Solvent (off-flavor and aroma), 75
Sorghum, 140, 142. See also adjuncts
Spangler, Ray, 132, 149, 151, 210, 282
Sparging, 26, 27, 38, 39. See also adjuncts
“no-sparge” technique, 38-39
stuck sparge, avoiding, 40-41
Sparkling ale, 84-87. See also blonde ale
Telltale Ale—American Sparkling Ale, 86
Wee Twinkling Winkie Scottish Sparkling Ale, 85
Spelt, 143. See also adjuncts, wheat
Spices and herbs (seasonings and flavorings), 152-171. See also Christmas beers,
fruit, hop tea, hops, individual beer styles, potions
Bat Bateman’s Black Pepper Porter, 171
boiling, 153
Chocolate Mint Stout, 158
dry hop, 153
Heather Ale, 242
Herb Tea Mead, 272
history of, in brewing, 9, 11-12, 236
Jerked Island Gold, 156
“London Ale” Adapted from John Tuck’s Private Brewer’s Guide, 1822, 180
Pirate Stout, 157
Plug Nickel—Thomas Jefferson’s Pale Ale, 264
Pudgy McBuck’s Celebrated Cocoa Porter, 157
Ray Spangler’s Pumpkin Spice Beer, 182
Smoked Five Spice Porter, 156
smoking, 156
Smoked Wassail, 156
sources, 157
Springtime Herbed Ale, 157
in stout, 103
tips on adding to brews, 153
types of
allspice, 158
angelica, 158
anise, star, 124, 158
aniseed, 158
avens, 158
balm, 159
basil, 159
bay, 159
bayberry, 159
birch bark, 159
bitter bean, 159
blessed thistle, 159
bog myrtle (sweet gale), 9, 159, 240
bog-bean/buck-bean, 159
broom, 13, 159
caraway, 159
cardamom, 159, 270
cassia, 160
chamomile, 160, 206
chile. See chiles
cinnamon, 160
cloves, 160
cocoa, 160
coffee, 103, 160
coriander, 117, 120, 160, 206. See also body
costmary (alecost), 160
cubeb pepper, 160
cumin, 206
elder flowers, 160
fennel, 160
fenugreek, 90, 160, 198
galingal alpina, 161
gentian root, 161
ginger, 153, 161
ginseng, 161
grains of paradise, 120, 156-157, 161
ground ivy (alehoof), 161
heather, 161
henbane, 155
juniper berries and branches, 147, 152, 161, 194, 245
licorice (Italian juice, Spanish juice), 97, 161
mace, 161
meadowsweet, 161
medicinal lichen, 120, 186
mugwort, 162
mustard, 153
myrtle, 162
nutmeg, 162
oak chips. See oak
oak extract, 162
orange blossoms, 162
orange peel. See fruit
orange water, 162
pennyroyal, 162
pepper, black, 162
pepper, chile. See chiles
pepper, Chinese flower, 162
pepper, Indian long, 162, 275
peppermint, 162
pinks, 162
pumpkin pie spice, 163
quassia, 162
rosemary, 153, 163
sage, 163
salt, 19, 55, 80, 146. See also water
sassafras, 154, 163
spearmint, 163
spruce, 163
sweet flag, 163
vanilla, 163
wild carrot, 163
wild rosemary, 163, 240
wood sage, 163
woodruff, 152, 163
wormwood, 13, 164
yarrow, 164, 240
“Stale” beer, 91, 94-95
Vatted Stale IPA, 91-92
Standard Reference Method (SRM), degrees, 18, 62, 63
Starch, 16, 28, 42. See also enzymes, malting, mashing, proteins
and other polymers of glucose in beer, 19
Starch conversion, 26, 27
using iodine to test, 251
Steam beer (California common), 14, 50, 66, 188. See also Anchor Brewing Company
Steininger, Tim, 171
Stock ale, 133-134. See also imperial pale ale
Stone beer (steinbier), 82, 259, 281-282
Carinthian Steinbier, 283
Storage of beer, 22-23
Stout, 13, 97, 100, 101-103. See also imperial stout, Irish stout
adding adjunct grains to, 101
Black Ship Pirate Stout, 200
Chocolate Mint Stout, 158
Fundamental Stout—Base Recipe, 101
malt used in, 64, 79
Pirate Stout, 157
Reishi Sumo Stout, 185
Spiced Bourbon Stout, 169
Strong, Gordon, 170-171
Gordon Strong’s Chai Brown Ale, 170
Strong beers, 126-137. See also alcohol content, individual styles
adding sugar to, 127, 133-134
adjusting hops in, 127
carbonating, 67, 128-129
English names for strong ale, 252
making high-gravity wort for, 126-127
Portlike Beer, 136-137
yeast used in, 128
Sugar, use in homebrewing, 40, 60, 123-124, 196-200. See also priming
adding to stout, 101-102, 196
candi (candy) sugar, 116-117, 197, 199
caramel, 199, 199
cooked. See sugar syrup
date syrup, 198
demerara (turbinado, muscovado, Barbados), 197
essentia bina, 96, 198-199
golden syrup (Lyles), 197
jaggery, 90, 196, 197-198
maple syrup, 198
molasses, 197
piloncillo (panela), 196, 197
treacle. See molasses
Sugar syrup, 101-102, 124, 198-199
making, 199
Sugars, 17, 18, 19, 43. See also mashing, sparging, starch
fermentable, 26, 27, 28, 62
Summer ale, British, 82-84
Mister Squinty Contemporary Summer Ale, 82
Summer Ale, What-if Version, c. 1830, 83
Swankey, 152, 158, 264-265
Pennsylvania Swankey, 264-265
T
Table beer, 130
Tannin, 39, 153, 176, 240, 268. See also hop tannins
Tasting beer. See beer tasting event, evaluation of beer
Taylor, John, 133
Temperature
in brewing process, 26, 27, 40
in mashing, 28, 37
for storing and serving beer, 22-23
Terpenoids. See hops, aroma and
Tesgüino, 141, 147. See also corn
Thermoregulator, 293
Thermometer, 38
Trappist beers, 118, 122, 125. See also Belgian abbey beer, Belgian ales
Triticale, 143. See also adjuncts
Triticale Tripel, 149
Trub, 32, 67
Tuck, John, 97, 180
U
Uitzet, 210
Underlet, 41
V
Vegetables, 182-183
pumpkin, 182-183
Ray Spangler’s Pumpkin Spice Beer, 182
Headless Horseman Pumpkin Barley Wine, 183
Vista, Thomas, 202, 203
Thomas Vista’s Hop God Ale, 203
W
Washington, George, 197, 263
“George Washington’s Small Beer,” 264
Wassail. See Christmas beers
Water (liquor), 54-56. See also individual beer styles, pH
in Burton-on-Trent, 55
carbonate in, 54-55
chemicals in, 19, 56
in Dortmund, 55
effect on hops of hard, 54-55
metals in, 56
minerals in, 54, 65
in Plzen, 55, 105
sulfate in, 54-55
Weights and measures, 230-233. See also measurement units
Weihenstephan, 58, 300. See also education
Weissbier. See weizen
Weizen, 17, 20, 140, 144-146, 147, 299. See also bock, gose, wheat, wild yeasts
Abbey Weiss, 189
Abbey Weizen, 169
Garden of Wheat’n Bavarian Weizen, 145
hops used in, 51, 146
Wild Rizen, 148
Weizenschalenbier, 260
Welsh Ale, c. 1800, 253
Wheat,
12, 42, 64, 101, 138-140. See also adjuncts
and grinding, 40
malt, 140, 143
torrefied, 143
types of, 144, 144
unmalted, 40, 61, 143
Wheat beer. See also individual styles
Amazing Daze American Wheat Ale, 150
Dick’s Elixir Wheat Porter, 151
fruit in, 173
“A Perfect Ten” Wheaten Honeywine, 276
serving temperature for, 23
Wheat Wine, 189
White beer. See Devon white ale, gose, witbier
Wild rice, 143-144. See also adjuncts
Wild Rice ESB, 148
Wild Rizen, 148
Wild yeasts, 57-58, 91, 172, 218. See also Brettanomyces, individual beer styles
Williams, Bruce, 153, 242-243
Williams, Paul, 171
Windsor ale, 252-253
Oh, Your Highness Windsor Ale, 252
Witbier, 40, 79-80, 152, 153, 204-208, 210-212. See also adjunct mash, L’Orge
d’Anvers, peetermann, wheat beer
Claude of Zeply Amber Strong Wit, 212
Hoppy Amber Wit, 189
Major Blankety-Blank India Wit Ale, 213
Nit-Wit Strong Wit, 211
Wit Guy White Ale, 207
Wyse Foole Wit Wine, 214
Wood aging, 91, 103, 215, 280. See also bourbon
achieving wood-aged character in October beer, 131
of stout, 103
wine barrels, for lambic, 220
Words, great brewing, 26
Worksheet, 70-71
Wort, 17, 18. See also brewing process, starches
definition of, 26, 27
dilution with water of concentrated, 38-39
high-gravity, 126-127
Wort aeration, 35, 66, 67. See also hot side aeration
Wort chiller, chilling, 27, 32, 34, 38, 53
Y
Yeast, 19, 57-59. See also attenuation, esters, fermentation, individual beer styles
and acetaldehyde, 74
baker’s, 195
barm and lobb, 26
in Belgian ales, 20, 57-58
bottom fermenting (lager), 12, 58, 66. See also lagers
in brewing process, 27-28, 33
Burton Union, 57
composition of, 57
and diacetyl, 20, 74
and DMS, 74
dried, rehydrating, 34, 58
flocculation, 59
general characteristics of, 31
history of, in brewing, 12, 57, 58, 234
liquid, 34, 58
and organic acids, 20
and phenols, 20, 75
pitching of, 33, 34-35
and relation to beer color, 63
selecting, 70
sourdough, 237
strains, 31, 58-59, 66
and temperature, 66
top fermenting (ale), 66. See also ales
wild. See wild yeast
Yeast nutrients, 56, 267
Yeast starter, 128
[Your Name Here] — Your First Radical Brew, 31-33
Z
Zoeg, 210
Zottegem, 216
Zweimaischverfahren. See decoction mash
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Randy Mosher is a nationally-recognized author and expert in the field of beer and
brewing. He writes for virtually all the national beer and brewing-related periodicals,
has lectured to audiences across the country, and has taught beer style courses at the
Siebel Institute.
He is active in the leadership of the Chicago Beer Society, the American
Homebrewers Association, and the Association of Brewers.
His interests in beer and brewing memorabilia combined with his experience as a
branding and packaging designer specializing in beer and food have given him the
tools to visually express the richness and exuberance of beer and brewing traditions in
Radical Brewing.
Randy Mosher lives in Chicago with his wife Nancy.
Also by Randy Mosher:
The Brewer’s Companion, Alephenalia, Seattle,
WA, Revised Second Edition, 1995
The Brewer’s Companion is designed to be a ready
reference for the serious homebrewer. Information is
presented in a highly graphical manner, with
numerous charts and tables. Emphasis is on record-
keeping and recipe formulation. Several brewing
worksheets are included from the simple to the
highly detailed. Comprehensive information on
ingredients,processes,beerstylesand
troubleshooting are included in a compact-yet-detailed form. A photographic step-by-
step guide to getting started is also included. Numerous illustrations and whimsical
homebrew labels enliven the text.
8.5” x 11” 224 pages, softcover. ISBN 0-9640410-1-4
